


Battle for Love

by MrsMCrieff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform, Slow Burn, Smut, Warstan, World War I, photo manips by the amazing @cumbercougars (lunacatd), war injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 37,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7894429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMCrieff/pseuds/MrsMCrieff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set towards the end of World War One, Sherlock and John are injured in the war and sent to England to recover. What happens when Sherlock insists on Molly as his doctor? Why Sherlolly of course! This fic includes some amazing photo manips from @cumbercougars (lunacatd). i'd like to take the opportunity to thank her for them and I hope you guys like them as much as I do!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, where do I start in describing this story? I've always hankered after writing a historic Holmes but the Victoriana has been so well done by other much better writers than I. Anyway, I was travelling home recently, listening to commemoration events for the recent 100 years since the Battle of the Somme in World War One and it inspired me to write this story.
> 
> I have done my best to make it as authentic as possible but at its heart it's Sherlolly pure and simple....just how I like them. I hope you do too.
> 
> Thank you, as ever, to Lilsherlockian1975 for all her support and encouragement when writing this one.

**4th May 1918 Northern France**

John felt as though he were in a living nightmare. He'd been awake for almost 48 hours, his head was pounding and ringing from the noise of the shells; the screams; the gunfire. He'd lost his way from the hospital station over an hour ago and was staggering through the mud and the gore, almost without any sane thought left in his head. He had memories of bleeding wounds and limbs shorn off, hands grasping at his uniform and faces....always the faces of the wounded and the dying, pleading with him to end their suffering, to pass on their final messages until he hadn't known where he began and they ended.

They'd come out into the melee trying to find the injured and a shell had struck. It had been so close to him he had felt the heat and the blast ripple through his very bones. He had been struck by mud and wood and body parts and as he landed he had struck his head on something unyielding. When he had come to his ears had been ringing from the noise of the explosion and for a blissful time all other noise had been muffled and far away. He felt disorientated and had made his way in what he had thought was the direction of the medical tents but he knew now that he was lost....lost somewhere in no man's land and he was certain he was going to die.

It was strange staring into the face of your own mortality, almost a comfort after the last year spent endlessly, soullessly piecing bodies back together just enough for them to be shipped home. He hadn't had a full night's sleep since he had arrived and he was tired, so very tired.

He had been shot in the shoulder as he'd tried to find his way back and the pain was a dull throb now, he knew he was losing blood and his attempts to pack the wound had been futile but it just didn't seem to matter anymore. It was then that he heard the telltale whistle from above, getting closer and he closed his eyes and smiled, waiting for the end.

Instead just as the shell exploded to his right he was struck by something which took him to the left. He hit the dirt hard, grateful that the wet mud cushioned his fall even as the thing which had hit him landed heavily on top of him.

For a moment the pain in his shoulder was so intense he thought he might pass out but he couldn't breathe, he felt as though he were suffocating, all the air knocked from his body and so he instinctively pushed up, rolling out from underneath what turned out to be another man, a man who was groaning and shouting.

Bit by bit John's senses came back to him as noise started to bleed back into his world.

'Damn it all, what kind of idiot wanders into no man's land anyway? You're a god damn fool and I should have let you die.' The man tried to stand but fell back yelling in agony; his body twisting to look down at his leg. John followed his gaze and saw the open leg wound, a compound fracture of the right tibia. He'd be lucky to live let alone keep the leg. His training kicked in and he ripped some material off his shirt to make a temporary tourniquet.

He could hear shouts in the direction the man had come from and he saw the trench and the worried, scared faces looking over and calling to him. He just needed to get them there.

He didn't know where he found the strength from, every muscle in his body ached and his shoulder screamed in pain but he took the other man under the arms and pulled, dragging him over the rough ground littered with spent armaments and barbed wire which threatened to catch at their clothes and tear at their skin.

The noise was becoming unbearable again. He could hear the bullets whizzing past them, the whistle of more shells and the relentless swearing from the man who'd saved him who now needed his help. Just as he got close enough to pass the man down to the waiting hands another bullet hit him spinning him around in a graceless circle and he fell to the floor giving in to the welcome blackness of unconsciousness.

JWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJW

The next time he came to his first thought was how much pain he was in; his eyes snapped open and he gasped in lungfuls of air which never seemed quite enough to give him the oxygen he needed. He wildly looked around himself and realised he was in a medical tent. He was lying on a low canvas camp bed surrounded by other men in various states of consciousness. He recognised nothing and no one apart from a voice off to his right which was berating one of the medical team.

'No, no I'm telling you right here, right now I do not want my leg removed...do you hear...you do not have my permission. I don't care how you do it I just need you to get a message to General Mycroft Holmes in London. Tell him...tell him...his brother...'

John could hear he was on the verge of passing out. He remembered the man's leg wound and knew the pain must be unbearable. He was amazed he was even conscious.

The doctor moved away muttering to one of the nurses that the man was an utter fool but asking for a telegram to be sent. He consulted his notes. 'He seems to be related...Captain Sherlock Holmes. Oh well, we'll patch him up enough to get him to England with the rest and it will be up to them to decide on his leg...if you ask me though gangrene will set in and he'll end up losing it anyway.'

John's head fell back onto the hard, ungiving pillow and he passed out once more.

JWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJWJW

The journey back to England was a painful one which just seemed to consist of one dark, cramped space after another. He had survived having the bullet removed from his shoulder, though the use of anaesthetic had been limited and the memory of the pain would be seared into his brain until the day he died. Fortunately the other bullet had hit the side of his body and had gone straight through without hitting any major organs; the field doctor had told him he was lucky and he should recover from both with few problems so long as he didn't get any kind of infection.

Infection was every field doctor's nightmare. With limited drugs and plenty of dirt a front line hospital was a breeding ground for the bacteria that they now knew had the potential to kill. John had lost far too many of his patients to infections which had run rife through their bodies whilst he had stood by feeling useless and impotent. It had been why he'd left the medical Corp for a while; preferring instead to sit in the trenches and fight the enemy face to face, until the gunfire and unnecessary killing had sent him back to his chosen profession. He wanted to at least try to save lives not kill them, no matter how futile it seemed at times.

He couldn't help but notice that the man who'd saved him, and been injured for his troubles, was being sent back to England at the same time. He regularly heard the man's voice telling the staff what they ought to be doing, calling the people around him idiots...he made John laugh with some of his insults and he found himself wanting to know more about who he was. They never seemed to be placed together though and John was too unwell to move himself.

The relief when they finally made it across the English Channel was palpable. There were men crying as they sailed past the the Isle of Wight and the English coastline came into sight. The journey had taken almost a week and John knew they had lost men along the way. The staff had long since given up trying to be discreet and John knew that of the thirty odd who had started the journey from that field in Northern France only twelve had made it back. He hoped someday those brave, lost souls would get a proper Christian burial and that future generations would appreciate the sacrifice that had been made for freedom, a freedom that was still so uncertain.

Finally the ship carrying them docked and John was carried out into the bright English sunshine. The day seemed to be a perfect spring afternoon and the colour of the grass, the green of it after so much mud made John himself well up. He put up his good arm to wipe the tears away, embarrassed at his own sentimentality but this place seemed like stepping out of hell and into a little slice of heaven.

As soon as he saw the building he knew exactly where he was. It was the Royal Victoria hospital in Netley where he had spent his years post medical school in London. It was here he had become an army surgeon before being posted out to France. The hospital was situated between Portsmouth and Southampton and it was a beautiful building but hugely impractical as a hospital, a case of style over substance but John was very glad to see the place. The sweeping lawns rose up from the water, with its wooden and cast iron dock, up to the enormous Victorian hospital which spanned the length of the grass stretching out either side of a large entrance. The longest building in Britain, or so John had been told years ago.

All around them were nurses in their standard grey and white uniforms wheeling patients out into the sunlight or coming forward to greet the new arrivals. John was carried up to the building and stripped of the grimy clothes he'd travelled in. He was bathed and washed until he felt like a whole new person and then he was redressed in a white hospital gown before finally being taken through to the ward where he would make his recovery.

When he got there his erstwhile saviour was in the bed next to him already haranguing a nurse about his treatment.

'I need a competent doctor not just one who's going through the motions. I refuse to have that man Anderson treating me, the man's an idiot and I'll be dead before the week is out if that were to happen.'

The woman sighed and tried to speak. 'Please, if you'll just...'

John felt sorry for her. She was quite petite in build and fairly pretty but she looked tired. He suspected that being a nurse here was quite demanding given the endless number of men being sent here. The next words John heard surprised him though.

'I want you to be my doctor.'

John frowned and looked from the man he knew was called Holmes to the nurse and it was then that he realised she wasn't wearing a uniform like the rest.

'Mister...' She went to look at his notes to find his name but he forestalled her.

'The name's Holmes...Sherlock Holmes.'

'Mister Holmes I'm really not best suited to being your doctor. I'm not long out of medical school and...'

'You're perfect. Do you know why? Because you chose this profession. Even in today's progressive society it can't have been easy for you getting into medical school as a woman. You've had to fight every step of the way and prove yourself to every man and woman who has tried to stand in your way. You have studied longer and harder than every man in your class because you had to be better, anything less and you would have been derided for trying to do your preferred job in a man's world. So that is why I want you as my doctor, because you care more, because you try harder and I need you to use all your skills to save my leg...' He saw her hesitate as did John. He also saw him take this small woman's hand and he heard as Holmes's voice drop down lower '....please.'

The woman blushed prettily and her breath hitched in her throat and she nodded her head. 'Alright...I will.'

John saw Holmes let go of her hand and immediately lay back in the bed looking relieved. 'Thank God. And your name?'

John watched her give his neighbour a shy smile. 'Molly, Doctor Molly Hooper.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I meant to post this earlier but life and going back to work got in the way. Anyway, I'm so glad this has been so well received. I was a little worried a historical fic would be a bit niche but so many of you are on board already so thanks for that.

Molly was exhausted by the time she finally got back to her room that night. She sat on the edge of her small bed and willed herself not to cry at the horror of some of the sights she had seen. She had been at Netley hospital for just over a week and hadn't yet got used to the smells and the sights and the constant cries of pain. Even here, in her small shared dorm, she could sometimes hear distant screams, some of pain and some of madness.

She rolled her shoulders and started to undress. She was alone in her room for once; her roommate obviously still at work. She shared with a senior nurse called Mary Morstan and the two had formed quite a friendship in their short time together. The room was part of a wooden hut which housed a total of six women in three bedrooms with a small shared bathroom and seating area. They didn't cook meals here but they did have a small, gas, cooking ring with an old battered kettle so they could make cups of tea and there was a regular supply of biscuits and cakes which they all chipped in to buy. Meals were all taken together in staff halls in the main body of the hospital.

As she washed her hands and face in a bowl of cold water she couldn't help but remember back to meeting HIM.

Molly had never been one for romance or dalliances and it was rare for her to fancy a man though she had had the odd infatuation over the years as would most women her age. This was different though. From the moment he had taken her hand, ignoring all the impropriety which went with it, she had been smitten.

He had dark, almost black hair which was cut slightly longer than the army normally allowed and it fell into natural curls which had her itching to run her hands through them. His face was thin with striking cheekbones which Molly had found herself wanting to trace with her finger, and his eyes were a strange moving mixture of blues and greens and gold. When he had looked at her she had felt herself responding to him as a woman should only respond to her husband and Molly had known that she was blushing under his gaze. 

Somehow he had persuaded both her and the hospital administration to let her be his main doctor and he was her first true patient since arriving. Whilst she was qualified as a doctor, and had practiced in a women's hospital in London, ever since she had arrived at Netley the other doctors, all male, had just treated her as though she were a nurse albeit at senior one. This would be her chance to prove her skills and she was determined to not let him down. He wanted her to save his leg and that is what she would do. 

It was why she set her alarm for the middle of the night. She wanted to go and change his dressings herself. It wasn't that she didn't trust the nurses but they had hundreds of patients to see to and she had to get this right. The fact that she also had feelings for him was something she tried to push to the back of her mind.

As she lay on her bed she recalled how she had unwrapped the bandages that he had arrived in. The leg injury was serious and had been treated as best they were able by doctors out in the field but her biggest concern was making sure the bones set straight and ensuring there would be no infection. She had had to re-break the leg and reset it and even using chloroform it had been painful for him. He had listened to her reasoning though and once he understood what she was doing and why he had borne all the pain showing absolute trust and faith in her judgement.

Her main concern now was keeping it all clean. She had used carbolic lotion to wash the wound, dusted it with morphine and had wrapped it in gauze soaked in the same solution and she wanted to replace the wrappings every six hours which was why she had her alarm set for two in the morning. He would also be in need of another dose of morphine.

When her alarm went off she dressed in a loose tea dress and wrapped a coat around her to ward off the chill night air. Mary was still working a night shift but the rest of the hut was quiet bar the occasional snore from one of the other bedrooms. Molly lit one of the lamps and picked it up to help guide her way up to the main hospital.

As ever when she entered the hospital she was struck by the smell of the place; a mixture of rotten flesh, stale sweat and disinfectant. The poor domestic staff had a job trying to keep such a large building sanitised and were constantly being berated by the nursing staff for not being seen to do a good enough job. 

She took the back stairs up to his room thankful that it was situated in the wing closest to where she lived meaning it was just a five minute journey. The other end of the hospital was a quarter of a mile away and would have been an irritating waste of time had he been housed there. 

Even at this time the hospital was still alive with noise, it was never completely quiet though this was quieter than most other times. When she entered his ward she felt her heart beat accelerate in anticipation of seeing him and she felt ashamed at herself for having such an unprofessional attitude. It really wouldn't do her reputation as a doctor any good to fall in love with a patient. It might be deemed acceptable for the nurses, albeit frowned upon by the senior staff, but she had to be seen to be better than that.

She couldn't help it though and her stomach swooped as she saw him. She came closer and she could see he was clearly in pain; his forehead was damp with sweat and his eyes were scrunched shut whilst his beautiful full lips moved in a constant whisper. She hadn't even put her lamp down on the small bedside cabinet when he spoke. 'About bloody time you turned up. I need my morphine. Do you have it?' His eyes snapped opened and he glared at her.

'Y...yes but I came more to change your bandages.'

'Just give me the morphine and do what you need to.'

Molly couldn't help but feel stung by his sharp tone. He'd seemed so nice when he'd held her hand earlier that day and begged her to be his doctor. She pulled herself up though, his attitude was irrelevant, she had a job to do and she needed to do it. 

She quickly took the syringe out of the small box she carried in her pocket as he pulled the sleeve of his night shirt up and fisted his hand so his veins stood out. His arm felt warm to her touch and Molly could feel his muscles bunching under his skin. She knew her heart rate was still accelerated and she felt warm all over at touching him in such a personal way. She was still so used to dealing with female patients and hadn't yet got used to being around so many men. 

As she injected the medicine into him she heard him let out a sigh of relief and she glanced up to see him staring at her intently. He cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes as he took in her appearance.

'Any chance you could leave me one of those doses in case I need it in the night and you're not around?'

'Oh..um..I'm not really allowed to do that.'

He bit his lip as though considering what to do. 'I like your hair down like that. It makes you look very pretty. It's a shame they make you put it up normally.'

He shifted in the bed and winced as it moved his leg and he let out a plaintive gasp.

Molly knew she shouldn't but she wanted to help him, to stay in his good books even. She fingered the small box of morphine doses that she'd brought with her; it wouldn't be so bad would it to leave him one?

'Well I suppose it wouldn't hurt. You do know how to use a syringe don't you?'

She saw his eyes light up and she couldn't help but give him a smile, eager to make him happier. 

'Yes, of course and don't worry I won't tell anyone, it will be our secret.' He gave her a smile and it seemed to warm her very soul. 

'Well, alright then.' She went to take one out of the box and he put his hand on hers, his long fingers wrapping around her slim wrist.

'Maybe it's easier to just leave me the box. I'll be good, I promise, I just....I hate being reliant on others, I like to control my own pain levels.....please.'

Once again she found she just couldn't resist him and he seemed to take the box from her grasp without her even realising it. 

She almost had to give herself a shake to get her head back into the right place so she could re-bandage his leg. It seemed strangely intimate somehow, with just the two of them awake in the darkened room lit by the soft glow of the gas lamp. She moved carefully as she unwrapped the now dry gauze before hurrying to the nurse’s station in the next room where she retrieved the bowl with the new damp bandages soaked in the lotion which would hopefully fend off any infection.

He didn't talk again as she worked but she could see him watching her as she moved around and she heard the odd hiss of pain whenever she needed to move him. By the time she had finished it was almost three in the morning and Molly could feel her eyes getting heavy again with fatigue. 

She glanced up and saw his eyes were closed and she hoped he had finally been able to get some sleep but before she could leave he caught her hand in his. He didn't seem to be concerned at all by societal pressure for men and women not to touch; it was as though he didn't even think about it.

He caught her eye and once again she felt her attraction for him blossom. 

'Thank you Molly...until the morning....'

'Yes, I'll see you then.'

He let her hand go and placed his own on his chest and she saw his eyes shut and his breathing starting to even out. 

Her mind was filled with him as she made her way back to her own bed and as she crawled under the covers trying to get some warmth back she found herself imagining what it would be like to be kissed. She had never been kissed by a man before and she wondered if her first kiss could be with a man like Sherlock Holmes. She hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So our Molly is completely smitten and Sherlock is being a manipulative arse...so far so normal.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit more of a bromance chapter, we need to start building the Watson/Holmes friendship as well as the Sherlolly.

Sherlock awoke as daylight threaded through the thin curtains listening to the irritating sounds of life all around him. He hated this place. He hated the patients, he hated the nurses and he hated the doctors...well most of them. He longed to be back in the sanctuary of his flat in London and he wished to God this idiotic war would be over. He'd kept abreast of things as best he could and he deduced that all things continuing as they were it should be finished before Christmas.

He supposed that the one saving grace of his injury was that he probably wouldn't have to return to the hellhole of the trenches and for that he was truly grateful. The only reason he had been there in the first place had been his own stubbornness against his brother Mycroft. Mycroft who was sat on his fat backside in the safety of his wood panelled London office whilst he moved men around like pieces on a chess board sacrificing lives on an apocalyptic level. Mycroft had wanted him to work for him, to be some political mandarin or engage in diplomatic lies and Sherlock had tried for a while but he couldn't stand it and in the end he had refused and his refusal had meant he couldn't escape conscription into the army.

Of course his education and status in life had meant that he had gone straight into an officer program but nothing had prepared him for the reality of life in the trenches. It had been brutal both mentally and physically. The constant noise, too many people living cheek by jowl in hideous conditions and the endless threat of death. He supposed that was why he had found himself going over the top to rescue the man lying next to him. He had honestly reached the point where he hadn't cared if he lived or died. Death would in some ways have been an easier option.

He looked to his right and observed him as he slept. He had already deduced he was a doctor; that had been obvious enough by the way he had immediately known how to treat the leg wound. He had also picked up on the fact that he knew this hospital; so trained in London and followed up with time here before being shipped out. He was relatively well bred, no parents, one brother ...estranged. He seemed interesting enough.

The thought of his leg injury reminded him that he'd managed to persuade his doctor to give him some morphine. The room was still quiet enough with no staff around yet so he reached under his mattress and pulled out the small box. There were six doses still inside so he deftly removed one and quickly injected it into his arm before lying back and waiting for the delicious numbing of his nerves. 

He wondered if he'd be able to get a regular supply from her. She certainly seemed compliant enough. As he'd held her wrist the night before her pulse had been accelerated which meant, when added to her blushes and stammering when talking to him, she was obviously attracted to him. That would certainly make his task easier. He had no fears for his own heart. Yes she was attractive in her own way but he had never yet found a woman who could hold his attention long enough to ensnare his affections. He often wondered if it was even possible for him to love; it was no loss if it wasn't. Being sentimental was a weakness and he hated weakness.

Shortly after, two of the nurses bustled in carrying trays of weak tea and bowls of watery porridge. The others started to awaken and Sherlock didn't even make an effort not to sneer at the slop that was put in front of him to eat.

'Come on now Captain Holmes, eat up, you need to set a good example to your men here.' The older nurse chided in a patronising voice which just made his hackles rise.

'They are not my men and I do not need to set any of them an example. Take it away and find someone less discerning to give it to, you have plenty of choice here.'

'Now, now you must eat.'

'Pfft eating...eating's boring...this whole place is boring. I need to do something not just lie here like an invalid.'

She pursed up her mouth. 'Well, you can take that up with Doctor Anderson when he gets here.'

'Anderson isn't my doctor, Molly Hooper is.'

'Molly Hooper? Oh, I didn't realise she was actually allowed to treat anyone. You know you can request a male doctor.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes and let out a sigh of frustration. 'I don't want a male doctor I want a competent one and Miss Hooper seems to be very competent. Ah, and here she is now. Good Morning Doctor Hooper.'

'Good Morning Captain Holmes, good morning Nurse Bridges.' She turned to Sherlock. 'Did you sleep well?'

'Please don't call me Captain, I hate everything about the army and about this blasted war. Call me Sherlock.'

He smirked as she blushed in a very becoming way and the nurse looked askance. 'Oh I...I couldn't do that. How about we settle on Mr Holmes?'

'Fine, if we must but I hate being bound by ridiculous and pointless rules and most of societies dictates are ridiculous, don't you think Molly?'

'I....erm....I suppose they are to some extent but many serve a purpose, they separate us from animals and the less educated. They give us a structure to live by which gives comfort and assistance to many.'

Her refusal to be shocked by him or to back down surprised him a little but then he reminded himself that he should have expected it. She had to have some backbone to have got herself through medical school she wasn't a complete door mat. It put her in a slightly new light.

She excused the nurse and then leant over him looking into each of his eyes in turn. 'Well, I see you don't need your morning dose of morphine. I take it you just took one dose and no more.'

He smiled at her correct analysis. 'Yes.'

'And how is the pain? Do you think you'd be up for being taken out for some fresh air today? It's unfortunate that most of the wards here are at the back of the building and you don't get much light or air from these windows and I do think it's beneficial to the healing process.'

'Fine. If you prescribe it I shall comply but only on one condition.'

'What's that?'

'That you come with me. I need some decent conversation from someone new...someone who doesn't just want to just talk about the war.'

He saw the battle on her face between her duty and her desire to spend time with him and he couldn't help but tip the balance in his favour. He caught her hand and used his thumb to rub a circle on her skin.

'Well, I suppose I could join you for a bit of time just after lunch...I normally have a break then. In the meantime let's change these bandages. If there's any sign of infection we may need to bip you.'

He frowned. 'To do what to me?'

She looked up from her place by his leg and smiled. 'Sorry, bip means smearing the wound in bismuth, iodoform and paraffin paste."

He grimaced. 'Ugh, can't wait, sounds delightful.'

The man in the bed next to Sherlock nodded. 'It's supposed to be very effective. I haven't seen it used myself but I have read about it. Sorry....I'm Doctor John Watson. I used to work here myself once upon a time. I can tell you I'd rather be working here now than be here as a patient. It's giving me a whole new perspective on doctoring...I'll be a better one in the future hopefully based on this experience.'

'No, you won't.'

The two doctors looked at Sherlock in confusion. 

John added. 'I beg your pardon Mister Holmes?'

'I just mean that being simply a doctor won't be enough for you in the future. You'll miss the adrenaline rush of the battlefield too much. I know your type.'

'Oh, and what type is that exactly?'

'You're a man who's built for adventure, for the thrill of battle. Yes, you're tired of it now and dream of a simple life but you thrive on danger and you'd soon get bored. You interest me Doctor Watson.'

'Well, I don't see how, we've barely spoken; though that being said I should thank you for saving my life back in France.'

'And I you, it seems we are equal in our debt one to the other so let it be forgotten. Molly here says I can go outside a bit later, maybe you could join us.'

'I'll need to see what my doctor says about that.'

Molly listened to the two men getting to know each other as she busied herself with Sherlock's leg. She knew it was wrong to think of him in terms of his first name but it was such an unusual one and it strangely suited him. Anyway he seemed to take a perverse delight in using her first name so she didn't seen any harm in thinking of his.

'Good God man you're not happy letting Anderson care for you are you? The man's an imbecile you can tell by his ties. Have yourself transferred to Molly.'

Doctor Watson frowned and coughed as he tried to dissemble. 'Yes, well I'm sure Miss Hooper...'

'That's Doctor Hooper to you. Don't tell me you're worried about her abilities because she's a woman. How very nineteenth century of you doctor. I prefer to judge a person by their abilities not their gender.'

Molly blushed at hearing Sherlock defending her so strongly. It was rare to meet a man who was so prepared to treat a woman as an equal and it was a huge mark in his favour in her mind.

She saw John nodding. 'You're right, of course you're right. I apologise Doctor Hooper and would be honoured if you would also take over my care.'

She gave him a genuine smile and agreed telling him she would check his situation as soon as she had finished redressing Sherlock's leg. She could hardly believe she had another doctor agreeing to have her be his doctor; it would do more for her reputation than a hundred other soldiers would. Thankfully when she went over his injuries his were far less serious than Sherlock's and well on the mend so she wouldn't have too much extra work in caring for him and she felt comfortable in giving instructions to the nurses. 

She left the two men finding out more about each other but not before Sherlock had reminded her of her promise to join them outside after lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how meritocratic Sherlock is in the original stories, how he doesn't care about a person's birth just their abilities. It seemed to fit perfectly with this story and his promotion of Molly to others as a doctor.


	4. Chapter 4

Molly was run off her feet for the rest of the morning, it seemed the breakthrough of getting one patient had broken the reserve around giving her more and she soon had a ward of men relying on her for care and treatment. The nurses were a little priggish with her still but she knew that with time they would come round, she just needed to be patient.

She almost missed lunch and was one of the last into the food hall, rushing down a now crusty sandwich along with lukewarm soup. She didn't mind though it just felt so good finally feeling useful and it was all thanks to Sherlock for believing in her.

She glanced at her watch and saw that it was almost two thirty which had her running for the stairs so she could make her way out of the gloomy building and finally feel the sun on her face for the first time that day. As she stood on the steps of the entrance she looked around at the groups of men scattered across the grass and even down on the pier in the distance. Many of the patients were convalescing and able to make their own way outside joining those who had to be wheeled or helped out by the nurses. Some were engaged in card games and smoking whilst others, especially those suffering from shell shock just seemed to sit and stare into the distance.

It wasn't hard to spot Sherlock, his shock of black curls stood out, and she quickly made her way over to where he sat in a rickety old wicker seated wheel chair.

'So, you finally made it. I thought maybe you had forgotten.' He sounded almost churlish and she couldn't help but smile at his sulky tone.

'Is Doctor Watson not with you?' She asked looking around.

'He was but he complained it was too cold and went back in. I think he was just keen to get help from a dark haired nurse who happened to have caught his eye though.'

'Oh,' Molly blushed not quite sure how to respond to that.

'Sit down then, I hate having to look up at people especially when I can't actually stand.'

Molly pulled over one of the garden chairs that lived outside rain or shine and sat herself down enjoying the freshness of the air as it blew in off the water. There were a couple of boats on the Solent and she watched their progress for a moment until she realised that Sherlock was in turn watching her. She blushed and ducked her head a little.

'Tell me about yourself Molly. I can already see you are an only child of middle class parents, so what made you want to be a doctor. I'm thinking maybe your father was in the profession. Am I right?'

Her mouth fell open. 'Yes, you are on all counts. Except...my father died just before I turned fifteen. He left just enough money to keep my mother and I and to put me through medical school. My mother hated the idea but she knew my father had encouraged me in it and that it was what I really wanted, so in the end she allowed it.'

'Don't tell me...she would have preferred you to get married and have children like a good little girl.' He quirked his lip up into a smile which warmed her heart.

She chuckled. 'Now that's an easy thing to work out. It's what every mother seems to want for their daughters.'

'But you weren't interested. Why not?'

She blushed once more and wondered what it was about this man that made her so susceptible. She had never been so prone to blushes previously.

'Well, I'm not saying I don't want to marry and have a family but I don't want that to be all I do. I saw how my father was able to diagnose people's ailments, how important his work was and how much pleasure he derived from it and I wanted what he had but..'

She broke off and Sherlock sensed there was something she had been about to mention. 'Go on...what were you about to say?'

'No...it's nothing. Just an idle fancy, you'd think me mad if I told you.'

'I think you already know that my decisions about people are not based on society's opinion so if you only tell one person your "idle fancy" why not make it me.'

She hesitated but only for a few seconds. She realised in that moment that he was right, he had proven himself already...so why not, she had never fully told anyone this and she needed someone she could share it with.

'Alright....' She bit her lip for a second and took a deep breath and all the while Sherlock watched her closely.

'When I was in medical school in London we had to work on the dead and I found it fascinating. I...I would love to work in pathology and study the causes of death. Does that seem too morbid an occupation for a woman?'

Sherlock smiled and shook his head. 'No, not at all I think it sounds fascinating. I would be happy to discuss some of your thoughts on it. Did you never discuss it with any of your tutors?'

'I tried with one but he looked so horrified. He patted me on the hand and told me a woman's duty was to focus on the start of life not the end.'

It was then that Molly realised the time. 'I'm sorry Mr Holmes. I have duties to get back to. I will see you later when I come to change your dressings and....thank you...for listening to my silly dreams. It feels good to have told someone.'

Sherlock tipped his head in acknowledgement and watched as she walked away, her slim figure accentuated by her light summer frock and the tight waist band. He found her to be very interesting, very interesting indeed.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

That evening Molly finally caught up with Mary in their rooms. Mary made them both a cup of tea and they sat together in the small seating area with the front door open to let in the warm evening air. It was June and the temperatures were starting to rise and the evenings becoming pleasant. Molly dreaded the high temperatures of summer though. The thought of working in the hospital, trying to keep the patients cool and the putrid smells which would accompany it all made her grimace.

'You seem thoughtful tonight. I hear you have your first patients now, how is that going?'

Molly smiled at her friend and wondered how much she should confide in her.

'Very well. I was fortunate to meet Mister Holmes, it was he who first requested me as his doctor and persuaded another patient, a doctor no less, to have me as his physician. It has gone on from there and I have been given my own ward on the second floor. The nurses are a bit difficult but I hope that my skills will prove my worth.'

'Nurses are all bitches.'

'Mary, how can you say such a thing?'

'Because I am one so I know. We like nothing more than to gossip and belittle the doctors...in private of course, not to their faces, and not the good looking ones.' She gave a smirk and Molly shook her head at her friends confidence and shocking values. She had made it clear from the moment they met that she had gone into nursing to catch herself a doctor as a husband.

'You know I don't have your advantages of birth Molly. I have had to make my own way in the world and I will take every opportunity I am given and I am determined to have fun as well along the way.'

Molly wished she were as brave as Mary. She knew she had been confident about going into medicine as a doctor but she was conversely so unconfident when it came to attracting a man, she simply had no experience.

'So, this Mr Holmes, what's he like?'

'Well, he's a Captain. He received a leg wound from a shell blast when he was saving the Doctor who was also brought in with him, a John Watson, he's the other patient I told you about. He must be very brave to have done such a thing. He has very anarchic views though, which was in part why he chose me as a doctor. I find him quite fascinating to talk to.'

 

'Oh you do do you?'

When Molly looked at her friend she saw her raised eyebrow and the smirk on her face.

'Mary, I didn't mean...I...he's my patient.'

'Yes, but is he good looking as well as fascinating?'

Molly knew she was blushing. 'I...well, I think he is. He's tall and slim, with such beautiful dark curls upon his head and eyes which seem to see right through to my very soul and his mouth is full and...'

'Enough, enough I think I will have to see this Adonis for myself, your description makes me long for a romance of my own.'

Molly shook her head. 'No, but seriously Mary, I cannot pursue anything with him. He is my patient and I have to show myself to be above such things.'

Mary snorted in derision. 'Well you can try and battle your feelings but if it's love it will win in the end.'

Five hours later as Molly made her way up to change Sherlock's dressings Mary's words were still prominent in her mind. She didn't think she was in love but she did know she was in danger but she couldn't pull back from him. She had vowed to aid his recovery, to heal him, and she intended to see it through, she would just have to protect her heart as much as she could.

This time when she entered the room she saw he was sleeping his arm flung out to one side, the small prick marks from his morphine injections standing out against his pale skin.

She trod as quietly as she could as she moved to uncover his leg and change his bandages. She was pleased with his progress so far. When he had first arrived the wound had smelt bad and the bandages had been filthy. The rebreaking of the bone had been vital and she had also had to cut away some infected flesh before resewing the wound.

Whilst the damage was still awful to see, the wound was a healthy colour and smell and his leg bones were straight and mending well. The same could not be said for the rest of him and she left a note for him to receive a bed bath in the morning. She knew not every doctor cared about how clean their patients were but Molly believed in taking an holistic approach to her care and that included every aspect of a man's stay in hospital.

He didn't stir much as she worked but she saw his eyes open a couple of times particularly when she had to move his leg to secure the bandages. His eyes showing her that his morphine injection was still very recent.

As she re-covered him with the blanket he smiled. 'You're here...my angel....my Molly.'

She shushed him. 'Please Mr Holmes you mustn't say such things, it's not right.'

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, 'pfft...I say what I think.' Within seconds his breathing evened out and she knew it was just the sleep and the morphine talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems Sherlock's sub-conscious mind is ahead of his conscious mind.
> 
> A small point of interest for you that I came across when doing some research; the first full time female pathologist in the UK wasn't appointed until 1985!! I don't know about you guys but I was shocked that it took so long


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning Molly went to see her ward first, feeling confident that Mr Holmes and Dr Watson would be fine for a couple of hours. Two new men had been added into her cohort overnight and she had to assess their needs and lay out a plan for their care by the nurses. It was therefore late morning by the time she made her way down to her other two patients. As she got closer she could hear the shouting.

'Get off me woman. I refuse to be manhandled by someone I have never met before, it's insufferable.'

She walked into the ward and Mary turned to her with an exasperated look on her face. 'Doctor Hooper your patient is refusing his bed bath. I've never seen anyone be such a baby about it before.'

Molly struggled to keep the smile off her face at Mary's comment and Sherlock's look of outrage.

'Sister Morstan, this isn't your normal ward is it?'

'No, but I swapped with Nurse Bridges this morning, she needed a change.' Mary winked at Molly and Molly couldn't believe Mary had been so conniving.

'Mr Holmes, please tell me your issues with having a bed bath...it's important that we keep you and your wound clean.'

His lips flattened out. 'I just hate being manhandled by someone so wholly unconnected to me. I hate being touched at the best of times.'

He said most of it over her shoulder in Mary's direction and didn't notice as Molly started to roll her sleeves up.

'Sister Morstan, if you could see to Doctor Watson's needs I will carry out the bed bath for Mr Holmes.'

'Certainly Doctor.' Molly saw the smirk which Mary gave her and she wished they were in private so she could ask her what she meant by it but Mary just went past the thin curtain that she had drawn between the beds and Molly could hear her introducing herself and talking to John.

'Right Mr Holmes, let us get started.'

He was leaning up on his elbows breathing heavily and staring at her in utter surprise. 'You can't do this.'

'Why can't I? You said you preferred it to be someone you knew and seeing as you know very few people here it will have to be me.'

'But...but you're a doctor. It's not your job.'

'No, but as you have said why be bound by rules and regulations. Come on sit up lets take your gown off.'

'At least let me wash my own face.'

'Fine.' She handed him the washcloth and watched as he scrubbed his face and neck, wincing as he caught some of the smaller gashes and cuts which still littered his body.

Then he passed the cloth back and pulled his nightshirt over his head before throwing it onto the floor.

Molly suddenly realised how hard her heart was beating and what she was actually letting herself in for. She had bathed her father when he had been ill, helping her mother in his final days, but this seemed so different. Her mouth felt dry and she noticed a slight tremor in her hands as she squeezed out the cloth in the warm water. She saw Sherlock lying back down awaiting her ministrations and she had to take a deep breath to try to calm herself before she could start.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock lay down and closed his eyes wondering how he had managed to get himself into this situation and why it felt so dangerous. He should just have let the nurse do the bath and be damned.

At the first touch of Molly's hands on his skin he realised why he'd sensed danger; he felt all his nerve endings come alive and he had to take deep soothing breaths to not show his reaction to her. How was this small, insignificant woman making him react like this?

At first her movements were timid and erratic but she seemed to grow in confidence as she went on, using the cloth to make long sweeping movements over the skin of his arm and chest. Mostly it was the cloth he felt but every so often she would place her hand on him, or stroke his skin where the cloth had cleaned and he could feel it affecting him each and every time. He felt acutely how long it had been since he had lain with a woman and if he hadn't been in pain from his leg, with the morphine wearing off, he would have been in danger of showing her his attraction all too clearly.

She had reached his hip and his thigh on his right hand side now and the water felt warm and soothing even as her hand smoothed over his skin leaving a trail of erotic sensation that had him biting his lip so he didn't groan. He found himself wanting more of her touch rather than less of it. He had to roll slightly so she could wash his back and he felt her slight hesitation before she swept over his backside. She didn't go below his knee on this side because of his injury so instead she dried his right hand side and pulled the covers back over him before moving the bowls of water so she could repeat the same on his left.

As she moved he finally opened his eyes and watched her. She gave him a shy smile and he noticed how dilated her eyes were, so it seemed she was finding this as arousing as he was. He saw her take a deep breath and then she gently moved the covers off his left hand side, again taking care to keep his privates covered, respecting his dignity, what little was left to him in this place.

Once more her touch was gentle but sure. As she washed down his arm and hand, holding it in her left as she wiped with her right and he was tempted to wrap his fingers around hers and hold them tight. It felt as though his body was betraying his mind and he tried to fight it but the physical sensations were too great.

As she moved her hands over his chest and down his side she paused and glanced at him.

'How are you finding the food here Mr Holmes?'

He frowned at the oddity of her question before realising that she had noticed his weight loss, his ribs were more pronounced than they had been a couple of weeks ago.

He shrugged. 'It's hardly afternoon tea at the Savoy.'

'You need to keep your physical strength up; it's important for your recovery. I'll check with the nurses and see if we can't improve things.'

'Thank you.' He hated feeling so helpless here and having to be indebted to someone, it went against all his internal feelings but he simply had no choice. He was reliant on this woman and her care.

This time as she reached his hip she seemed to hesitate and he watched as she seemed to have some internal battle with herself and a moment later he knew why when she reached under the covers a bit further and swept the cloth over his testicles and between his legs.

It was all he could do not to let out a very unmanly squeak and pain or no pain it sent a pulse of blood to his manhood which had him half sitting up in shock.

'I...I apologise Mr Holmes. It's standard practice I'm afraid.'

'Dammit woman I can wash my own privates.'

There was a snort of laughter from Watson just the other side of the curtain and Sherlock turned his head angrily towards the sound barely noticing as Molly started to quickly work down his leg.

'It's not funny man. It's damned humiliating being bathed like a child. I'm only in here because of you.'

'Just lie back and enjoy it Holmes. It's the nearest you'll get to female contact in this place.'

When Sherlock next glanced at Molly she was bright red with embarrassment and he felt a little guilty for the inappropriateness of their conversation. He lay back down and stayed silent for the rest of the session though he couldn't help but miss her touch when it had been removed.

It was a pleasant surprise at lunch though when he and Doctor Watson received their meals to find that the stale bread and cheese been replaced with fresh bread and a meat broth. The nurse who delivered it seemed very put out. 'Doctor's orders. You're to both be on a high protein diet for the next few weeks to aid your recovery though if you ask me it's all unnecessary nonsense, ain't nothing wrong with the normal fare what everyone else has.'

Sherlock scoffed. 'And pray tell me how many of your other patients survive on stale bread and gruel...at least half or less than half?'

She scowled and walked away whilst the two men ate up and the other men on the ward grumbled about their own food or lack of it. By the end of the day they had all requested they be treated by Molly and she found her workload since starting growing exponentially.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It was past eight o'clock when she finally made it back to her room and she was so tired she just fell onto the bed fully dressed. Mary came in an hour later waking her unintentionally and as Molly readied herself for bed Mary went to make them both a cup of tea.

A few minutes later they were both sat in their night gowns on their beds braiding their long hair ready for sleep.

Mary was the first to talk and she kept her voice low so their conversation couldn't be heard by any of the girls in the adjoining rooms. 'So, how was it?'

Molly knew what Mary was talking about but she found herself procrastinating. 'How was what?'

'You know perfectly well what I mean. How was it...giving Mr Holmes his bed bath? You seemed to take an awful long time over it.'

Molly scowled sulkily. 'Well I'm not used to giving them. Maybe with practice I'll speed up.'

Mary raised an eyebrow. 'Oh, so you'll be giving him all his bed baths in future then?'

Molly knew she was blushing. 'Stop it, you make it sound so inappropriate. I was just tending to his needs. Isn't that what we do for all the patients here?'

'Yes, but it seems we tend to some more than others. Be careful Molly. It's already been noted that you seem to give him special treatment and more of your time, you don't want to become a figure of gossip.'

'He was my first patient. I just want to prove myself that's all.'

'I know Molly, I understand but are you telling me your feelings have nothing to do with it because I'm telling you that that man is very attractive. I can see why you would have feelings for him. Though I have to say his neighbour Doctor Watson is more the kind of man to attract me; he's so funny and very good looking. I've decided to stay on that ward, Bridges doesn't mind and it will give me time to work my charm on Watson.'

Molly laughed. She'd seen her friend in action once before and John wouldn't stand a chance. She said as much to Mary as they climbed under the covers.

'Honestly though Molly, I hope he does like me. I have a good feeling about this one. Anyway good night.'

Molly lay down and closed her eyes. Tonight would be her first night without being disturbed. Sherlock's leg wound seemed fine and she had asked the nurses to change his bandages in the night as she had been starting to realise herself that maybe she needed to distance herself a little. She couldn't afford to let her heart get in the way of her job even if it did make her feel sad.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you all liked the bed bath scene. Many of you were advocating that Molly start to distance herself a little to see Sherlock's reaction but he's a selfish bugger so it's hardly a surprise that he doesn't take it too well.

Sherlock had also determined the day before to try to quash his feelings for his physician but when the nurses woke him in the night to rewrap his leg he couldn't help but feel disgruntled that it wasn't her.

His mood did not improve as the morning wore on and there was no sign of her. In the end he snapped at one of the nurses as she came in to medicate the patient in the bed opposite him.

'Where's my doctor? Why hasn't she been in yet today?'

The blond nurse was the one who had tried to bed bath him the day before and she arched an eyebrow. 'Doctor Hooper is in a lot of demand. She has many patients to attend to, you aren't her only one anymore. I'm sure she'll be along to see to this ward when she is able to.'

That only served to put Sherlock in a worse mood and even John, who he was fast seeing as more than just an acquaintance now, was unable to snap him out of it.

'Dammit, I chose her because I thought she would give me better care than the rest but she is no better than the other doctors in this damned place. I won't become just another statistic, I won't.'

John shook his head. 'But what do you propose to do about it old chap? There are hundreds of patients here and the staff are run off their feet trying to see to all our needs. Why should she favour you over the others?'

Sherlock sat and contemplated his options, his eyes narrowing as he thought. He respected her too much to try blackmail and anyway he had nothing on her. Bribery was also out, she was far too moral for that course. The one option which did seem to be open to him gave him qualms though. He wasn't averse to seducing a woman for his own means but in the past on the one occasion he'd done it he hadn't actually been attracted to the woman in question and in all honesty he found he couldn't say that about the fair Doctor Hooper, especially after THAT bed bath.

John sat himself up on the side of his bed and looked at him. 'What are you thinking?'

'I'm thinking I could seduce her. She already has an attraction to me, it wouldn't take much to push it in the right direction and then I'd be guaranteed to get the attention I want.'

John frowned and shook his head. 'I don't know Holmes. She seems to be an innocent when it comes to love. It doesn't seem like a decent thing to do. If you need female affection I'm sure there are plenty of nurses who are....shall we say a bit more worldly wise.'

Sherlock scoffed. 'It's not affection I need, that's irrelevant; it's attention. I need to know my care is a priority...I'm damned if I'm staying in this place a moment longer than I have to. She's ensured I'll keep my leg but now I need to get back on my feet; I need my mobility. I hate being stuck in this bloody bed like an invalid.' He smacked his fists down either side of his body, hitting the mattress in anger.

It was at that moment that Molly walked in through the door and she looked at Sherlock in shock. For a moment he wondered if she had heard too much of their conversation but it quickly became apparent that she had only heard his final outburst.

'Mr Holmes, I understand your frustration but an injury as severe as yours takes time to heal. We can start to get you on some crutches in the next week or so if you need a bit more mobility, and I can arrange for you to be wheeled outside again this afternoon for some air.'

John saw the change come over Sherlock like an actor walking out on stage to take his cue.

He gave her a charming smile and held his hand out. 'If I am to go outside promise me you'll join me Molly. I enjoyed our conversation the other day and would love to continue it.'

John looked at the poor beguiled doctor as she blushed and took a hesitant step forward. 'Well, that's very kind of you to say Mr Holmes but I..I'm very busy and it wouldn't really be appropriate.'

'Pfft who cares about appropriateness. We get on, we have common interests, that's all. And you deserve a break, caring for all of us must be very tiring. The air that you say will do me good must be just as beneficial for you. I absolutely refuse to go if you won't go with me......please, say you will.'

John rolled his eyes. The girl didn't stand a chance against such an onslaught. He saw her blush deepen and she stammered a bit more as she shyly agreed and they fixed on her coming back to wheel him out just before tea.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Molly returned as promised and after securing some help to get him into the wheel chair they set off. Sherlock was surprised by how weak he had felt when he'd tried to lift himself using his arms. He hated how slow this whole process was and he tackled Molly about it as they made their way through the corridors.

'So, how soon can I start to use the crutches?'

'Well, normally I'd wait a couple more weeks...'

'Weeks! No, impossible. I'm getting weaker by the day, both mentally and physically, sitting in that bloody awful room.'

'Umm...I suppose we could try you with some in a couple of days but you'll need to be very careful with your leg and it will be very painful.'

They came out into daylight and Sherlock found himself squinting at how bright it was after the gloomy interior of the hospital. He had to put his hand up to shield his eyes, blinking to try and acclimatise somewhat. It was another symptom of being trapped in that building and he hated it, he felt almost claustrophobic.

'I don't care how painful it is, we'll start tomorrow. You can always get me more morphine if I need it.'

Molly parked him up by a couple of spare seats and sat herself down. 

'Mr Holmes, who is the physician here you or me? You need to be careful with how much morphine you take. I have read in recent medical journals that it may become addictive. It is being referred to in some circles as "the soldier's disease". Now I will get you your crutches but I will decide how much pain relief you get do we understand each other?'

Sherlock's nostrils flared and he sucked his lips into his mouth biting on them lightly as he weighed up his options but she had him over a barrel.

'Fine, it's a deal. Now distract me from all this,' he waved his hand around them indicating the other patients. 'Tell me about your time at medical school. I can see you trained in London but not which hospital.'

He saw her face light up as she talked about her time at Barts and he enjoyed hearing her enthusiasm. 'I would love to go back there, after the war, if they'd take me. How about you Mr Holmes what does life hold for you when this all ends?'

'I have rooms on Baker St that I would very much like to return to. I had just started to embark on a new hobby of criminology and learning how to read people from small signs; I call it deduction. It's something I used to play at doing in my youth but I met a man before the war, a detective from Scotland Yard called Lestrade, and I was able to help him catch a killer due to my skills. I found it very absorbing so that is what I would hope to continue to do.'

He smiled openly and moved forward a little. 'But what of love Molly? You must have had suitors during your time at Barts and before, you aren't a young girl after all and yet you are attractive, I would have expected you to be married or at the very least engaged by now.'

She shook her head at his impudence and he saw how pretty she was when she blushed. 'I wanted to concentrate on my studies when I was in London. It had taken me so long to be accepted that I didn't want to ruin things with any form of entanglement.'

'And before that, there must have been a beau where you grew up...yes, I can see from your expression that there was. Tell me about him.'

'He was just a local boy, Tom, we'd grown up together and he was kind enough but...'

'Yes, go on.' Sherlock found himself leaning forward again, more interested in this subject that he had realised. He found himself hoping it had never been anything too serious. He had Molly down as a virgin and he suddenly realised how very much he wanted to be correct in his deduction. He didn't want to think of her sullied by another man's hand.

'Well, like I say he was nice but as we grew older I realised...well that he was not my superior knowledge wise and my father warned me against forming an attachment. He wanted me to be with a man who challenged me intellectually and he said it was a rare thing; that most men preferred a wife who was less intelligent than them. He was right, Tom was too traditional and when I announced my intention to go to London and study his interest in me waned. I was still sad though to hear of his death in the Somme almost two years ago.'

She looked so maudlin that it was all Sherlock could do not to reach out and try to comfort her. He frowned at the oddness of his own reactions and when she saw it she asked if he would prefer to return inside.

'No, no I'm fine. We have another ten minutes yet and I'd like to make the most of my freedom.

'Tell me about where you grew up then Mr Holmes.'

'It was mostly in the country, we have a family estate in Buckinghamshire. I had a happy childhood before going away to school. Both my brother and I were precocious and he finished his initial studies at fourteen and I at fifteen. I went to Oxford and studied Chemistry and left with a first at seventeen. I'm afraid my life there after became quite dissolute. I had better not tell you any tales of that time you are far too innocent and I wouldn't want to corrupt you.'

He saw how her eyes dilated and her mouth opened slightly, her breast rising and falling with her breathing. He found it interesting that she was attracted by his admission of bad behaviour rather than repulsed by it as most of her class and standing would be. Yes, Molly Hooper was not a normal example of her gender, she had a fire about her and she was enthralling him. He found himself wondering what she would be like in bed, no doubt shy and nervous at first like any virgin but he bet she would come alive under his touch and if he hadn't been so injured he'd be tempted to corrupt her completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh talk of Sherlock and corrupting has brought me out in a bit of a hot flush :).


	7. Chapter 7

In the end a slight set back in Sherlock's health meant that he had to wait a few more days anyway before he could attempt the crutches. He had caught a cold, one of many bugs and illnesses running rife in the hospital, and his weakened state meant it tired him out so much more than it normally would have. Molly was very attentive throughout which cheered him somewhat and she told him it was probably no bad thing that he had delayed as she had felt it was too soon for him to attempt to walk.

He had had to content himself with learning more about Doctor Watson and flexing his mental muscles by starting to deduce the other patients. Just as he had found in the past, people didn't much like being told things about themselves and most of the other men now ignored him or were very colourful in their way of telling him to shut up. John seemed fascinated though and asked him each time how he had seen the signs, what they were and how to interpret them. He had then tried to use the technique himself but his attempts were risible and was only thing to have made Sherlock laugh out loud since he had arrived.

Finally however the day came when Molly arrived bearing a set of wooden crutches and Sherlock immediately felt his mood lift. 

He started to sit and tried to move his leg but winced in pain.

'Patience Mister Holmes. We need to give you a bit more pain relief today if we are to attempt this.'

She took out her pocket box of morphine doses and he held his arm out in anticipation. He couldn't help but notice the slight shudder that went through him when she held his arm before injecting him. Since recovering from his cold and with his leg on the mend he had become more aware of his sexual appetites starting to make a reappearance. In the past he would have relieved himself in private. Yes, he had been very much aware of the brothels and street walkers that were around on the edges of the trenches servicing the men on their way to the front line but he hadn't been interested in that. Sexually transmitted diseases were commonplace in them and indeed it was well known that some men actively tried to get 'the clap' in order to have a few weeks in hospital being treated rather than being in the trenches. It hadn't appealed to Sherlock though.

The trouble was this place didn't lend itself to privacy and so he had been trying to ignore his needs instead. It just seemed that much harder whenever Molly was around.

Molly passed him his new dressing gown, a cranberry coloured number which his mother had sent along with a pair of brown leather slippers which he could currently only wear one of. He had to admit that he felt a bit more himself after he had put them on.

They both felt it would be easier for him to start with one crutch with Molly on his good side to support him whilst he got used to it. It took him a while to move himself so he was sitting on the edge of the bed and he was a little angry with himself at how nervous he felt. It was the anger which drove him on giving him the courage to slot the crutch under his arm and with Molly holding his other arm he forced himself into a standing position for the first time in almost a month.

The sudden drop in his blood pressure made him feel momentarily dizzy and he could vaguely hear Molly telling him to take a deep breath and not to move until he was ready. A minute later his vision had cleared and he felt able to take his first step. 

They made slow progress out of the ward and down the corridor. Together they headed in the quieter direction, towards the back stairwell that Molly told him she had used when she'd visited during the night, and as they turned the corner they found themselves alone.

Sherlock was breathing heavily from this activity and Molly implored him to turn back.

'You mustn't over exert yourself Mister Holmes. You have done very well for a first attempt. Come, let us get you back to your bed.'

'Damn my bed, I hate it. Just...just let me rest a moment before we go any further.'

He reluctantly let go of her waist and leant against the wall catching his breath, saddened by how unfit he felt. They had walked barely fifty feet; he could still hear the muted chatter from the wards just around the corner.

Molly looked out of the small window opposite before turning back to him with a smile.

'So, I'm curious Mister Holmes...'

'You know you could call me Sherlock.' He smirked at her, enjoying the blush which spread across her face.

'Please...you know that I can't.'

He rolled his eyes but waved his hand, 'go on then.'

'If your family have an estate why did you not travel home to be cared for by them, privately?'

He sighed, his brother had already written to him imploring him to do just that. He told Molly what he had told Mycroft. 'My care would be no better there; they have no specialist skills in the towns surrounding my family home so London doctors would need to have been sent for. And whilst I may get bored here and fed up with the noise and the people, to be alone with no one but my parents and their staff for company would have been unbearable; so I'm staying here.'

One of the domestic servants came around the corner and glanced disapprovingly between Molly and Sherlock before moving on and down the stairs. Molly stepped forward suddenly realising how unchaperoned she was. 'Maybe we should return to the main corridor.'

She made to put her arm back around his waist to support him but he turned them both so it was she with her back to the wall and he was leaning on his crutch balancing on one foot with his free hand resting on her hip.

'No need to rush Miss Hooper. My turn to ask you a question....have you ever been kissed?'

He saw her sharp intake of breath and the colour on her cheeks deepening.

'Mr Holmes....please that's a very impertinent thing for you to ask.'

He smirked once more and saw her bite her lip with nervousness. 'No, it's not. Being impertinent would be asking if I could kiss you right now.'

He paused watching her battle between her desire for him and her upbringing. He leant a little closer and brought his hand up to cup her face. 'I won't force myself upon you...it's not as though I'm in a position to in my current state. You can walk away from me at any time...but I would very much like your consent.'

By this point his lips were barely an inch from hers and he could smell the lovely perfumed scent of her; so clean and feminine in this place of unending masculine stench. Almost imperceptibly she nodded her head and it was all the permission he needed to take the kiss he wanted from her.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly wondered if she might actually pass out. She could hardly believe the turn of events. One minute she was happily talking with this strange, anarchic, gorgeous man and now he was looming over her asking for permission to kiss her and even though her head was telling her to say no her heart and her body were betraying her.

She could feel his rough hand on her face holding her steady as his lips pressed against hers. She had imagined her first kiss, hadn't most girls, but this was nothing like anything she had expected. She felt overwhelmed by him. His lips were soft though the rest of him seemed unyielding and rather than it being a chaste press of lips as she had thought a kiss would be he had tilted her head and moved his mouth in such a way that hers had opened, moving against his in a strange sort of dance which sent sparks of energy rushing to every part of her body. She felt more alive and womanly than she had ever felt before. Was this what it was to be joined with a man...she knew it couldn't be...knew from her medical knowledge that there was more; but this...this felt so intimate, she never wanted it to end.

She lost track of time and breath and when he finally moved away she felt light headed and realised that somewhere along the way she had put her hands on his waist to steady herself. 

When she finally was able to look up at him she saw a slight flush of colour on his cheeks and a brightness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. He spoke in a low voice which seemed to ripple through her.

'I think maybe you should take me back to my room before I do something I shouldn't Doctor Hooper.'

This time when she took hold of him to lend him support she was acutely aware of every point where their bodies touched, the warmth and solidness of him. She felt something else as well, a desire for more...so much more. The force of her feelings surprised her and she knew she needed to get away, to remove herself from him so she could analyse them but she also wanted to know that they would kiss again. She felt she wouldn't be able to bear the thought of never feeling his lips on hers like that again.

As she sat him down on the edge of his bed she wondered what she could say that wouldn't arouse suspicion in front of Doctor Watson who was even now looking at her curiously. She knew she was blushing and out of breath and she worried...did it show in her face, did she look different now she had been kissed for the first time?

In the end as she said her goodbyes Sherlock caught her arm lightly and looked her direct in the eye. 'Until tomorrow Doctor Hooper, I feel we need to repeat what we did daily to build up my strength and maybe eventually we could go further.'

It was all she could do to nod before she walked away. Had he really implied what she thought he had implied? She wanted to be shocked and she was but what frightened her more was that she wasn't deterred. She wanted exactly what he wanted and she was already counting down the hours until she could see him again. She had so much to confide in Mary that night.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Molly was not the only one confiding in a friend. As soon as Molly had left the room John quizzed his friend about his appearance.

'You look as though you had run a marathon. Are you sure it wasn't too much for you? And I fear it was too heavy a burden for Doctor Hooper...she was quite red in the face and breathing heavily. It's too much for her Holmes.'

Sherlock waved his friends concerns away. 'Pfft she was fine. Her reactions had nothing to do with supporting me as I walked.'

Watson frowned and leant in closer. 'Then what were they down to? Don't tell me you're still intent on doing that girl wrong?'

Sherlock's voice lowered to a whisper. 'We kissed. It was nothing more, I find her very diverting. I need something to take my mind off this place.'

'But what of her reputation?'

Sherlock slowly adjusted his leg as he lay back on his bed. 'Her reputation is fine, we were discreet and I expect you to be discreet as well.'

'Of course...of course, that goes without saying....but you care nothing for this girl and it doesn't sit easy with me.'

Sherlock didn't respond, choosing to ignore Watson's displeasure. He could have told him he was wrong, that he did have feelings for her and he did. He'd thought he had control of them but he'd realised how wrong he was when he kissed her. He had felt a rush of hormones and emotion the like of which he had never felt before and he was worried; worried that the perfect world view that he had of his future life could be in jeopardy but even more he was worried that she might tire of him before he tired of her and he found he didn't want to be without her. It all gave him food for thought but they were things he didn't yet want to discuss openly, not with anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's keeping secrets and secrets are rarely good. I hope you liked the first kiss, let me know.


	8. Chapter 8

When Molly returned to her room later on that same day Mary knew immediately that something had happened. She seemed to take a double take of Molly before standing and leading her friend by the hands to sit on the side of her bed with her.

'Come on...what is it? Why do I think something has happened? You cannot stop smiling.'

'Oh Mary...it was the best thing in the world. Mr Holmes...Sherlock, he..' She ducked her head feeling suddenly shy. 'He kissed me.'

'Molly....I am both pleased and shocked. I would have expected this kind of behaviour from some of my nursing colleagues but not of you. I take it he declared himself then.'

Molly shifted uncomfortably as she thought back over their conversation. She had no memory of him revealing his feelings but he must feel something for her surely. She said as much to Mary.

'I am sure you are right but just make sure you don't give too much of yourself without first securing his affections. Men in this place are lonely and looking for solace, we have to be on our guard against them taking liberties. But enough of my lecture tell me all the particulars, how did it feel, was it good?'

'How can I say what is good or bad when I have nothing to compare it to?'

'So, this was your first kiss? Now I am even more surprised. You must really like this man and yet he seemed so abrasive when I met him. Not that that always stops us women when we have feelings for a man. Sometimes we like them acerbic in nature.' She raised her eyebrows and gave Molly such a knowing look that the two of them burst out laughing.

'But did you enjoy it?'

Molly bit her lip for a second and then nodded her head. 'Yes, God help me, yes I did. Very much. I cannot wait until we can kiss again. Is that so very wrong of me?'

'Maybe but I can tell you one thing it's very natural. I remember my first dalliance with a boy when I was only fifteen. Oh, it was one beautiful summer spent in secret meetings and stolen kisses. I would count down the minutes until I would see him again. I am jealous of you Molly; I only wish Doctor Watson would be so forward. I am sure he likes me but he has made no move. I'm almost tempted to make it myself.'

'Mary! Now it's my turn to be shocked, you surely wouldn't actually carry out such an idea?'

Mary lay back on her bed whilst leaning on her elbows. 'Oh wouldn't I! I know there are at least two other nurses setting their cap towards him so I need to act if I am to secure him. Maybe we can get the two of them out together? The weather is not looking good tomorrow but maybe when we have our afternoon off in a couple of days we could invite them to lunch outside with us. There is safety in us being together as it will mean less chatter from the other staff. What do you think?'

Molly smiled. 'I think I like that idea very much.'

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

The next day Sherlock didn't see Molly until she came around after lunch to help with his walking again. He wondered how she had taken the events of the day before and had even considered that she might not turn up but rather send someone else to assist him, but here she was and it was a good sign. As she once again helped him put on his dressing gown and to stand he knew the test would be when they got to the door. If they turned left she wanted them to stay in public and for there to be no repeat of his actions the day before. If she turned him right all bets were off.

He could sense her nervousness as she looped her arm around his waist, his own resting on her shoulders. Her breathing was shallow and her face a little drained of colour, she had hardly spoken as he had readied himself. As they reached the doorway she hesitated before making her decision and turning him.....right. He smiled to himself even as he struggled to move himself along with the crutch as his splinted leg ached and throbbed with the movement.

This time as they turned the corner he gave her no warning, asked for no consent as he already knew he had it.

He turned and pushing her against the wall he kissed her once more. This was no first kiss it was bruising and demanding, he wanted her to know just what being kissed by a man was truly like. He wanted her to know he desired her, to be in no doubt of it. And most of all he wanted to awaken the beast that he knew resided within her. 

She moaned into his mouth and he could feel himself getting hard, grateful that his thick, expensive dressing gown would mask it. He wanted to press himself against her but it was far too soon for that level of physicality not to mention he was still balancing himself on one foot and a crutch.

He felt her hands come up around his back with her small fingers digging into the fabric of his gown and he wanted it to be his naked flesh. He had a sudden flashback to the feel of her hands washing him and it was all he could do not to growl like a feral animal. 

She broke off the kiss gasping for air but he didn't let that stop him. Instead he kissed along her jaw and down to her neck lightly sucking and biting at the skin, careful to not mark her...it wouldn't do for this agreement between them to become known. He didn't have to imagine the consequences he knew them. As a woman it would be deemed to be her fault, she would be classed as a wanton and no doubt sacked from her position and returned home to her mother in disgrace.

Somewhere along the way her hands had moved into his hair which one of the nurses had washed for him only that morning. She twined her fingers into his curls and then tugged at them and the growl that Sherlock had been trying to keep inside himself came out. He felt his eyes rolling back into his head at the sensations it sent through his body all of which seemed to culminate in his groin and he felt his hardened length twitching with need.

'God, Molly don't do that or I'll be undone.'

'Don't do what?'

Her voice sounded low and erratic and he knew she was as affected by their kissing as he was.

'My hair...that, whatever it is you're doing feels too good.'

She smiled wickedly and tugged once more and he groaned as he recaptured her lips. He felt as though he could never get enough of her and he wanted so much more. He wished they were anywhere but in this exposed corridor with him having to keep one ear out for any approaching footsteps. 

Eventually she moved her hands to his chest and pushed him lightly. 'I..I think maybe we should stop. I feel....I mean, I want to continue I do. I just...'

He nodded, he knew what she meant. Things were getting too heated and they had to be careful.

'Come, let us continue with your walking. I'll go and get the other crutch and we can see if you can walk with both.'

He turned and leant against the patch of wall that she had just vacated and wished he were able to relieve himself of his frustration in some way. He hated being so reliant on others and hated even more the lack of privacy. Had he been alone he would have taken his erection in hand and brought himself to fruition but he was not and instead he was left hard and aching with no promise of relief. 

He was painfully aware that some of the other men in his room did not have his qualms. Those that could move went to the showers for relief and those that couldn't used the dead of night to quench themselves....unfortunately Sherlock was a light sleeper and normally had to try to stop himself from hearing by covering his ears with his pillow.

Molly returned a moment later with his other crutch and at least the effort of learning how to use them lessened his problem and by the time he had walked the full length of the corridor and back he was too exhausted and pained to think of physical desire.

As Molly got him back into his bed she seemed a little nervous as she engaged in conversation with himself and Doctor Watson and Sherlock wondered why that was. He soon found out when she tentatively mentioned that herself and her roommate had the afternoon off in a couple of days’ time and she asked if he and John would care to join them for a picnic lunch.

'We thought you could meet us at our lodge which is on the East side of the hospital. We're in one of the wooden huts that you can see on that side. We could bring our table and chairs outside as you are not able to sit on a picnic rug. Mary has already asked the kitchens and they've agreed to provide us with some sandwiches and cake.'

She bit her lip as she glanced at Sherlock and he wondered at her being so nervous about asking him.

'Well I for one would appreciate any alteration in the tediousness of our day. What say you John?'

John had a slight frown on his face. 'Do I know this Mary that you speak of?'

Molly broke into a grin. 'Sorry, I should have said... Sister Morstan. She's the blond nurse that has been caring for you recently.'

John's face lit up in such a way that neither Sherlock nor Molly were in any doubt of his attraction for Mary.

'Ah Sister Morstan...yes, she seems very amiable. I would be happy to join you. I only wish we could contribute in some way...maybe we could obtain something to bring with us what do you think Holmes?'

'Well, we have money and there is a veritable black market in this place so I'm sure we can find something suitable.'

Molly smiled again. 'That's wonderful. I shall come to collect you on the day just after one? I think we will need the wheelchair as it is probably a little far for you on the crutches.'

'No, dammit, I have to build by stamina up. I'll walk it or be damned. Just tell us which hut and we'll find our way there.'

Molly blushed a little at his outburst but nodded her head. 'Alright...well I'll let Mary know. I shall see you tomorrow for your next physical training session then.'

As she left John rubbed his hands together and then winced at the pain in his shoulder. 'Well, well Holmes this is a pretty little turn of events. I had wondered how I could spend some time with Miss Morstan and now I have it.'

Sherlock ignored him. 'You need to get me some clothes. I'm damned if I'm turning up in nightwear. You know my height and build, I'm sure we can obtain something appropriate.'

John nodded his assent and Sherlock lay back smiling. He couldn't help but feel the irony. Before his injury if a girl had asked him to a picnic he would have scoffed at the boring conventionality of it but beggars can't be choosers and it now seemed the highlight of his week. Given Miss Morstan's attraction to his friend he felt sure of being able to spend some quality time with Molly. He knew it was too soon for them to consider complete intimacy but that didn't mean he couldn't further things just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and his wicked thoughts. He's still after corrupting our innocent Molly. Should we let him?


	9. Chapter 9

By the time he went to sleep Sherlock had almost forgotten his 'problem' earlier that day but unfortunately for him his body had not.

He fell into a deep sleep and his dreams were haunted by Molly.

_They had made their way into the corridor and this time when he pressed her against the wall he wasn't having to balance: his leg was just fine. He bent down and pulled her long skirt up around her hips and then lifted her easily so her slim, bare legs could wrap around his waist._

_He felt hard and desperate and just wanted to be inside her. It was a matter of seconds before he had released himself from his trousers and then he was pushing himself inside her warm, wet centre. Her mouth was on his, her tongue fighting with his own, the taste of her intoxicating him as he thrust himself inside her deeper and deeper; her moans mixed with his own as he could feel his release building deliciously._

_He palmed her breast with his hand, feeling her nipple hardening underneath his touch, and the noises she made...every moan and gasp just excited him further._

_Just before he came he felt her convulsing around him, his name falling from her lips and it sent him over the edge. He felt his balls tightening and his brain whiting out with pleasure as he felt his seed pumping into her._

He came to with a start and a groan feeling the sticky residue on his night shirt and his stomach. He sat up swearing in a low voice even as one of the other men told him to 'shut the fuck up'.

He grimaced as he swept the nightshirt over his head wiping the mess off his stomach before throwing it onto the floor then he swept his hands through his damp sweaty hair and over his face as he closed his eyes and thought back over the dream. He hadn't been this affected by a woman since he was a teenager and it confused and frightened him. He had always believed that caring was not an advantage and yet here he was not only caring but doing nothing to prevent them getting closer. He wasn't sure that was even a choice he could make anymore because whilst the idea of being with her scared him the thought of her with someone else made him feel sick to his stomach.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Sherlock was not the only one suffering from a sleepless night. Molly kept replaying their kisses over and over in her mind. She knew she should be ashamed of having let him touch her and kiss her in that way. It was so improper and against everything her mother and father had ever taught her about propriety but when she was with him....oh when she was with him the rest of the world, with all its strictures and rules, just seemed to melt away.

She had intended to ask him to give her some assurances before giving in to his kisses but he hadn't given her a chance and, God help her, she had loved how forceful he had been, taking from her just what he wanted. She had never given way to another person like she had with him. He enthralled her and excited her, making her feel things she never had before.

She listened to Mary's steady breathing in the bed next to hers. She had confided in her once again and Mary had just laughed and shook her head and told her it looked as though she had it bad. When Molly had asked what 'it' was Mary had just replied, 'love, Molly, love.'

They were both equally excited about their up and coming picnic and Molly resolved to wear her new best dress. It was very fashionable for London but a little risqué for Hampshire with a mid calf hemline. It was made from a thin dark cream cotton and was patterned with little red cherries. Mary had clapped her hands together and shrieked in delight when she had seen it. It certainly showed Molly's dainty ankles off to perfection, especially when teemed with stockings and her best black heeled shoes; a vast change from her duller workaday clothes and flat boots.

She just had to get through the next few days and irritatingly she knew she wouldn't see Sherlock except when doing her ward rounds as she now had to cover for Doctor Brigson who was home visiting his wife who had just given birth to their first child. That meant that one of the male orderlies would take over supervising his walks and it made Molly feel frustrated to think of those lost opportunities.

Eventually however, the morning of the picnic came around and it seemed to last an excruciating amount of time. It was well after twelve when Molly finished her duties and she had to run back to the hut to give herself some time to change and do her hair. When she arrived Mary was already dressed and was putting on a frankly daring shade of red lipstick. She offered some to Molly but she wasn't quite brave enough to try it.

Whilst Molly changed Mary laid out the food. There wasn't much but it would be sufficient and they had their kettle to make tea.

Molly kept her hair up in a simple ponytail but added a ribbon which matched her dress to make it a bit more dressy. She found she was more nervous than she expected as she glanced at the clock and saw it was almost one o'clock.

She hurried out to help Mary; thankful that the weather was warm and relieved that the position of their hut and the woods meant that they had quite a degree of privacy. Then she felt guilty at having thought such a thing. She was meeting him in the company of others this was not some secret assignation nor should it be.

A few minutes later they heard the men's voices as they approached with Sherlock berating John and telling him he had the instructions wrong and they needed to turn right. He was obviously correct in his deduction because a moment later they appeared through the trees and Molly had to put her hand on her chest to stop her gasp of shock at the sight.

Sherlock was both clean shaven and dressed. He had somehow obtained the dark green trousers and shirt and tie of an officer in the army, which of course was what he was. Molly was just not used to seeing him that way. He had had to cut the left leg of the trousers to accommodate his injured leg but still the overall look along with having his hair more slicked back and his face shaved just made him even more imposing and good looking than he had been before. Molly felt almost dowdy in comparison and she wondered what he even saw in her.

John greeted them both warmly and passed Mary two bottles of wine that they had been able to purchase somehow. Molly had never really drunk much alcohol but when Mary opened the first bottle she didn't object to having a glass, she felt it might actually give her some much needed courage.

Sherlock sat down heavily on one of the chairs and hooked his crutches over the back as he caught his breath. Molly felt suddenly shy around him, he almost seemed like a different person than the one lying in a bed who needed her. She wasn't even sure what to say to him.

He, it seemed, did not have any similar compunctions. He patted his good leg and gestured for her to sit. 'Come Molly kiss me.'

Molly gasped at his forwardness and even John let out an 'I say Holmes' but Sherlock just waved them all off irritably.

'Oh for goodness sake it's not as though no one here knows about Molly and I. I have confided in John and I see from Mary's unsurprised reaction that she also knows about us so why are we hiding. I thought the point of this afternoon was for us to be able to spend some quality time together whilst John and Mary here got to know each other and we can't do that if we're too busy being polite and boring.

He didn't seem to notice the embarrassed glances that John and Mary were giving each other at his outburst but instead he just patted his leg again and held his arms out waiting expectantly for Molly to do as he expected.

She couldn't help but smile at him and shake her head at his complete disregard for social conventions but she did as he asked and sat herself down, careful not to knock his bad leg.

He seemed so much closer and she could see every freckle and every scar on his face as he smiled at her. 'There, that's more like it. Now kiss me Molly.'

She did and it felt just as good as it had previously. They were at least a little more chaste given that they weren't alone but when he let her go a minute later he was pleased to see the heightened colour on her face and in her eyes.

The picnic went very well with lots of chatter and eating and drinking. Molly was surprised by how quickly they got through the first bottle of wine and before she knew it she was on her third glass and her head felt a little fuzzy.

Sherlock, under pressure from John and then from Molly, had regaled them all with the tale of how he had helped Scotland Yard catch a killer and whilst he didn't say anything Molly could tell he was proud about how impressed they all were with his skills. Molly had never known anyone who was so unbelievably clever, he seemed to notice small details that nobody else did and could weave from them the whole of a person's life.

It did seem that his knowledge had its limits though. John ribbingly asked him to tell them all whether the earth went around the sun or the sun went around the earth and Sherlock threw up his hands in exasperation. 'This again, why are you so obsessed with the solar system...it's not important.'

He then went into some tirade about how he kept his brain free of irrelevant information. Molly found herself not really listening but just watching him instead. She was fascinated by his lips as he spoke and by his hands as he made various gestures in the air; his fingers so long and artistic. She wished his hands could be on her right now.

It was only when Mary gasped and John and Sherlock turned to her with shocked expressions that she realised she may have actually spoke that out loud. She sat up straighter and knew she must be bright red with mortification but Mary just laughed.

'Doctor Watson, I find I could do with some exercise after all that food. Would you care to join me for a walk through the woods?'

John stood immediately and held out his good arm to her. 'I would love to Miss Morstan.'

Mary linked her arm through his and raised an eyebrow at Molly as she led Watson back down the path.

She could hear them chatting easily, listening as it faded into the distance. All the while she stared at her hands in her lap; too embarrassed to lift her head and look at Sherlock not knowing what his reaction might be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something tells me his reaction will be one that she likes, what do you guys think? Anyway, I hope you liked their picnic. Next time things heat up a little ;).


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to hot up now, Molly's wish for Sherlock to put his hands on her starting to come true.

Finally Sherlock broke the silence.

'So, you want me to put my hands on you; you know I am always happy to oblige. Do you have any preference as to where?'

Molly closed her eyes and shook her head. 'Please do not make fun of me Mr Holmes. I am so embarrassed. I am not used to drinking and I fear the alcohol must have gone to my head.'

It was then that she felt his fingers under her chin lifting her head back up and turning it to face him.

'There is no need to be embarrassed. Alcohol just brings out our innermost desires that's all and you shouldn't be made to feel ashamed for voicing what you really want. If it's any consolation I want to touch you and want to be touched by you. Why is that so wrong? It's a natural human desire and it is only our ridiculously out dated Victorian values that tell us it is wrong.'

As he spoke his hand moved to cup her face and his thumb brushed over her cheek before moving slowly across her chin. As it moved over her lips Molly knew she was breathing in short, wavering breaths not quite sure of what she actually wanted from him. His thumb pulled down her bottom lip and pushed its way into her mouth and she bit down lightly on it letting her tongue trace over it, watching as his eyes grew darker. He looked at her in a way that no man ever had before.

'Oh Molly, what I would do to you if I were not an invalid.'

His words left a strange feeling low in her abdomen. She felt...arousal. She wanted him and it was that which made her say something she would never have expected herself to say.

'Tell me... tell me what you would do.'

He let out a low groan and gestured for her to sit on his knee again and she found herself moving over eager to be in his embrace once more.

'We would start with a kiss, Molly. A kiss to seal our fate and inflame our desire.'

She closed her eyes as his mouth met hers and she gave in to him kissing her with every ounce of the recent knowledge and experience that she had. When his tongue met with hers she tentatively responded in kind mirroring his actions and enjoying the noises that he made as she did. She felt almost removed from the real world as his lips moved against hers and she moved her hands to loop around his neck playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

'I would kiss down your throat tasting you, listening to your moans, knowing that it is me that you want.' Again he followed his words with the action and Molly let her head tip back as she felt his tongue leave a trail of moisture down the length of her neck before sucking in the skin at the base of her throat.

'I would undress you, taking my time, seeing your body revealing itself to me.'

He lightly dragged her dress and the straps of her undergarments off her shoulder as his mouth followed and he bit lightly on the skin of her shoulder loving the gasp she let out as she clung to him.

'My clothes would follow soon after and I would let my hands and my mouth explore every inch of you.'

His free hand slipped under the hem of her skirt and Molly could soon feel him kneading the skin just above her knee. She felt incredibly sexual and knew absolutely that she was in danger of letting him go too far but she couldn't bring herself to stop. As his hand found the top of her stocking she moaned as she felt his fingers sliding along the bare skin of her thigh.

His voice seemed to drop down a notch as he once more pressed kisses to her throat. 'I would taste every part of you Molly. Would you want my mouth on your womanhood...on your breasts?'

The hand that had been on her shoulder moved lower to cup her breast and Molly felt faint. She had never known that being with a man could be so exhilarating and so physically pleasurable. She felt an ache between her legs that she couldn't explain but she just knew that he was the only one who could ease it.

The images he was putting into her mind were like nothing she had ever thought of before. In all her medical readings there had been no mention of a man using his mouth on a woman in the way that Sherlock was describing. It sounded so utterly debauched but she couldn't help it, she wanted it, she wanted him.

He caught her mouth again and she heard herself moaning and gasping. Every so often he would break away from her, barely moving his mouth away as he told her more. It was as though he knew a whole lexicon of language and imagery that she had so far been unaware of.

'Eventually, when you were fully ready for me I would take my hardened manhood and I would push into your glorious warmth. Is that what you want Molly? Do you want me to take you and make you mine?'

Molly almost whimpered with need. She moved to kiss him again, needing to feel him pressed up against her. His hand on her breast was relentless and the other on her leg seemed higher still but yet not quite high enough. She found herself instinctively wanting to press herself against his fingers. Her hands slid over his back as they kissed again and she could feel the muscles as they bunched and flexed under her touch and she wished it was his bare skin she was feeling. The whole experience still felt so oddly dreamlike.

This time when their lips parted it was her who spoke. 'Oh God, Sherlock...please...I...I feel so estranged from myself. I hardly know what it is I need.'

He laughed, a low soft chuckle. 'Don't worry my Molly; I know exactly what you need.'

For a split second his hand started to move higher but then he quickly withdrew it along with the hand he had had on her breast. Swiftly he pulled the shoulder of her dress up and smoothed her hair before giving her a quick peck of a kiss.

He must have seen her puzzled expression because, in a low whisper, he added, 'John and Mary are on their way back.'

'Oh!' Molly went to stand but Sherlock held her fast on his knee.

'Wait, I need you to stay where you are whilst I recover myself. John would not be blind to my situation.'

When she frowned again he rolled his eyes. 'Come on Molly you're a doctor, figure it out.'

Her mind felt slow and full of treacle as she thought through his words but then she became conscious of the hardness pressing into her hip and she suddenly realised something that her medical text books had mentioned. His manhood must be engorged and ready for engaging in amorous congress.

She felt both shocked and scandalised but also secretly proud that she had caused such a reaction in him.

As John and Mary appeared Molly knew she was blushing and she could not keep the smile off her face. She wasn't too distracted though to not see that John was holding Mary's hand and that the two of them looked almost as happy and smug as she felt.

'Did you have to come back so soon?' Drawled Sherlock.

John looked surprised. 'It's almost tea time old man and Mary tells me that some of their roommates will be back shortly so it is probably time for us to remove ourselves if we are to consider our fair ladies' reputations.'

Sherlock huffed. 'I suppose, though I wish we didn't have to be so hide bound by society.'

Mary laughed. 'Yes we know, you're the great rebel who does as he pleases. Well you can can't you because you are a man and it's a man's world.'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes but reluctantly nodded and it was only then that he let Molly rise up from his knee.

Molly couldn't help but feel sad at his leaving. She wasn't ready for it. She felt a restless kind of energy running through her and that was nothing compared to the words he'd spoke which were still whirling around in her head. She wished she could stay with him forever.

She caught his arm as John gathered up his coat. 'When will I see you again?' She whispered.

'I rather think that that is up to you Miss Hooper. Though I am sure that as my doctor you will be in to check on my progress tomorrow.'

He gestured to his crutches and Molly retrieved them holding them out so he could use them to lift himself from the seat. When he was upright she realised once again how much taller he was than her. It made her feel strangely protected when she was with him even though he was in no fit state to fight for her or defend her.

'Until tomorrow then Molly,' he added in a low voice and then he caught her lips in one last beautiful kiss that had her wanting to hold onto him forever.

As the two men moved away Mary sat down heavily in one of the chairs. 'Well, I have to say that was one of the most enjoyable afternoons I've had since I came here. Doctor Watson is one hell of a kisser, that's a man with just the right amount of experience.'

Molly shook her head and wished she could be as brash and confident as Mary was. Instead she started to collect up the plates and cups to wash up before they returned them to the kitchens. Mary stood and started to help.

'So, come on. How was your afternoon? I have to say that Mr Holmes scrubs up quite well doesn't he. You're very lucky; he definitely seems to have eyes for you and no one else. A couple of my colleagues tried to make a play for him and ended up in tears. I think you and John are the only people he's actually pleasant to. And what about him kissing you in front of us! I didn't know where to look, I've never seen anyone act so completely without any common decency before.'

She went on as she followed Molly to their small sink. 'I mean, I can see why you like him. There's something so very free about him but I worry for you Molly, he's dangerous as well. If he's not bound by normal rules and values what boundaries does he have?'

Molly shrugged knowing that Mary was right in her concern but not knowing if she had any reason to counter it.

Mary put down the plates and took her friends hands. 'Do I need to be worried Molly?'

'I...I don't know what you mean? Worried about what?'

'About you...and I don't just mean getting your heart broken. I saw how things were between you, there was an obvious chemistry there; I could almost feel it. You...I mean I take it you are thinking in terms of contraception.'

'Mary!' Molly let go of her friend's hands as though they had burnt her. She felt mortified at being asked such a thing but deep down, underneath her mortification was a guilty knowledge that maybe her friend was right to be worried. What would she have done if they hadn't returned when they had? What would she have let Sherlock do? She should have stopped him before he even kissed her but instead he had touched her in places she had never thought any man but her husband would touch her.

'I'm sorry if I have offended you Molly. I...well, just know that I am here for you if you need anything or if you ever want to talk.'

Molly turned her back and listened as she heard Mary walk slowly away. She wanted to talk to her, she really did, she just had no idea what she should say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molly's in deep...but then I think I would be too if Sherlock wanted me like he wants her...sigh!


	11. Chapter 11

The next few weeks seemed to offer little real chance for Molly and Sherlock to be alone together. They frequently managed to meet up after lunch and engaged in long conversations about pathology and its potential in helping to solve crime but it was much harder to manage the odd walk and a stolen kiss here and there. So their frustration and need for each other just seemed to grow exponentially the harder it was for them to physically be together. Molly longed to feel Sherlock's hands on her body even as she felt ashamed for thinking it. The shame didn't stop the need though.

John had finally been deemed fit to go back to work but seeing as Dr Brigson had never returned after his visit back home, due to complications with his wife's health, John was offered his position at Netley and also given his quarters. It irked Molly to know that the male doctors all had private quarters which included a bed and sitting room whereas she had to share with the nurses. It was just another example of how she was treated as lesser to her male colleagues even though she worked twice as hard as they did.

They also got to go to the Officer's Mess on site as did Sherlock as a Captain but women of any rank, except the lowest, were not allowed.

John and Mary continued their romance and Mary kept Molly informed every step of the way and she even confided to her friend the fact that she may agree to have sex with Doctor Watson so long as she had a ring in her finger and a promise to be wed. He didn't need to be asked twice and Mary was sporting the said ring by the end of the month.

Sherlock meanwhile had often told Molly how much he wanted and desired her but talk of feelings had never come into it and Molly was almost too embarrassed to ask. She knew how she felt about him and she also knew how she would feel if he walked away and it was that prospect that stopped her from forcing a declaration from him.

His own convalescence was going well and he had long since given up the crutches in favour of a stick and his walking was vastly improving. It was down to his incredible determination and strength of will but Molly feared that it may turn out to be a bad thing. The army kept a close eye on patient's progress and had started to comment that it wouldn't be long before Captain Holmes could go back to active duty and the very thought of it made Molly feel sick.

It was one warm September evening when Sherlock agreed to meet Watson in the mess for a few drinks. He was feeling particularly in need of a distraction given his limited time with Molly earlier which had just left him once again feeling stymied and frustrated. He knew that she wanted to be with him and he with her but finding somewhere private in this place for long enough was proving difficult. He had even gone so far as to consider asking Watson for the loan of his rooms but even for Sherlock it was a step too far. He knew that Watson still frowned on their relationship, still seeing it as Sherlock playing with Molly's affections. He could easily have disabused him of the fact but he still felt angry with himself at having been drawn into such a human weakness as this. He could only imagine what his brother would say if he were to find out.

This all combined into a night where he hit the alcohol hard. It didn't help that he'd taken another dose of morphine before arriving and the combination made him feel light headed and free. So free that it wasn't long before another officer made a swing for him and it was only the fact that Sherlock stumbled a little that stopped him from getting his block knocked off.

John dragged him outside and watched as Sherlock lit a cigarette.

'You're in a strange mood tonight Holmes, worse than normal. I suggest you go and walk it off, you don't need any more alcohol tonight.'

'Pfft...walking's boring. This whole place is boring, I'm surrounded by dolts and imbeciles present company not excepted.'

John rolled his eyes, used to his friend's outbursts. 'Fine, well this dolt is going to leave you to it. Mary's on a night shift so I think I'll hunt her out and she if I can't persuade her to take a break.'

He walked away leaving Sherlock leaning against a tree blowing smoke at the moon.

Sherlock had no desire to go back to his ward and even he knew it wouldn't be sensible to return to the mess. It was then that he remembered what John had said about Mary being on a night shift and a slow smile spread across his face.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly had just settled down to sleep in her bed when she heard it; a quiet tap at her window. She lifted her head off the pillow and squinted through the darkness as though she could see what had caused it. She heard it again, a definite tapping and then a whispering. 'Molllllyyyyy, come on, open up for me.' Then a giggling noise.

She frowned and lit the small lamp beside her bed before moving over to the window, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders as she went.

She pulled back the thin curtain just as Sherlock tapped on the window again and when he saw her his face lit up. 'Molly, there you are. Let me in.'

Molly bit her lip, even from here she could tell he was a little out of sorts and had probably been drinking but the idea of letting him in was so tempting. Her dreams at night were full of him and they just left her feeling empty and unfulfilled and she longed to spend more time with him.

She put her fingers to her lips and made a shushing noise before opening up the window to let him in. Luckily it was a reasonably big window but it was still rather an ungainly entrance and when he caught his leg on the window sill he turned the air blue with his swearing which had Molly actually putting her hand over his mouth to shut him up.

'Shhh, the others are asleep right next door. If they find you in here I would get into so much trouble.'

She helped him up and he leant against her limping a little more heavily but once he was on his feet he pulled her to him and whispered in her ear. 'Oh Molly what if I want to cause you trouble?'

He kissed her and all her qualms at letting him in just seemed to melt away. Her hands went around his back and she held him as tight as he held onto her and it wasn't long before they stumbled backwards and onto her small bed giggling at the squeaking from the springs which then had Molly making shushing noises again.

'God, Molly. I just couldn't keep away once I knew you were alone. Have you any idea what you have been doing to me recently? I can't sleep, I can't think, my mind is just tangled up with hormones...you are ruining me.'

As he said all this he was kissing his way down her neck with his hand stroking her breast over the top of her nightgown. He found her nipple and pinched it lightly, making her gasp and have to contain the moan that threatened to leave her.

'Sh...Sherlock. You shouldn't be here. We are completely unchaperoned and I...oh...'

'Please, just let me stay a while. I'll go if you make me but please don't make me.'

Molly was so conflicted. Every cell in her body wanted to be with him, in every way possible, but she also knew the risks she ran in letting him stay. As much as she wanted to be with him there was a danger of this leading to sex and sex before marriage wasn't just a societal rule it was a sin.

But, God help her, she wanted him to stay more than anything so when he moved above her she gave in to his kiss letting his tongue enter her mouth and vie with hers. She didn't stop him when he pressed himself against her even though she could feel his hardness through their clothes and between her legs. And when he rocked himself against her all she could think was how much more she wanted.

He continued to kiss her as his hips relentlessly moved against hers and all she could think about was the strange sensations that he was causing inside her. She felt as though she were building up to something but she just didn't know what. As he broke off and kissed her neck she tried to ask him what was happening to her.

'It's alright, it's fine, just give into it Molly, let yourself go.'

He sucked on the skin at the base of her neck and something inside her seemed to break and she was caught up in a wave of the most amazing ecstatic feeling. It was like nothing she had ever felt before...ever. She briefly heard herself cry out his name before he covered her mouth with his drowning out all her other sounds.

Slowly she felt herself start to reinhabit her own skin and she felt dizzy and tired and just filled with emotion and confusion.

She pushed against his chest and he rolled off and onto his side still kissing her neck whilst his hand continued to fondle her breast.

She moved with him with her hand at his waist playing with a tiny patch of skin that had been revealed when his shirt had come lose from his trousers.

'Sherlock, what was that? I felt...my God, I don't know what I felt. It overwhelmed me.'

He smiled and moved to kiss her on the lips. 'Well the French call it "la petit mort" and the Victorians used the term hysterical paroxysm but I believe in our enlightened times it is known as an orgasm and it comes from sexual pleasure. The question is Molly, did you enjoy it?'

He started back on her neck moving her onto her back as she stared at the ceiling and thought through what he had said. She had read about female hysteria, of course she had, it had been in her medical books but she had never experienced it until now.

He lifted up his head. 'Well, you haven't answered my question. Did you enjoy it?'

She was glad the room was fairly dark so he couldn't see to much of her blush. 'Yes, yes I did. Very much...but...'

He was slowly undoing the laces at the top of her nightdress as he kissed down onto her chest and she absent mindedly threaded her hands into his hair.

'Mmmmm?'

'Well, we haven't...I mean...you didn't...'

'No, Molly, your maiden hood is still intact though I wish it weren't.'

It was then that he revealed one of her breasts and took it naked into his mouth and Molly felt her body reacting once more. Having his mouth on her felt so perfect, each swipe of his tongue and graze of his teeth sent shockwaves through her. She could feel his light stubble rubbing against her delicate skin and she didn't care. She knew she must be a bad person for thinking that but he made her feel alive.

She also knew that he had not reached any climax himself and she was curious. She knew the medical logistics but nothing of the reality and she wondered if he would teach her. She wanted to make him as happy as he made her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, they're treading a very fine line but I can't believe things like this didn't happen back then. Human emotions and urges haven't changed even if the social expectations and rules have. And I'm sorry; I can't promise there won't be rough times ahead for our amorous couple.
> 
> On an amusing historical note, picked up from my research, vibrators were invented to cure female hysteria and were welcomed by doctors as it meant the hysteria could be treated much faster as often it had taken them up to an hour of manual stimulation to 'cure' the female patient. Yup, you read that right, women could go to the doctors for an orgasm!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the Molly's education continues. I'm so glad you're all enjoying it. Thanks you for all your comments.

She tried to hold onto her thoughts whilst he concentrated on her breast until she had to pull on his hair to make him look up at her.

'I...I...would like to give you pleasure too but...' She bit her lip in embarrassment but forced herself to go on, 'I don't know what to do.'

He moved up again and kissed her briefly in the lips. 'But Molly you do give me pleasure.'

'No...you misunderstand; I mean physically. Can I give you an..an orgasm without us having to engage in...umm...' Her confidence failed her and it felt as though her cheeks were burning. She had never imagined that she would be so forward with a man but he made her want to push herself...to learn.

He moved off her slightly and lay on his back pulling her with him so she half lay on him.

'Why don't you take your time, just get used to touching me. You could start by undoing my shirt.'

So she did. With shaking fingers she undid the buttons until his chest was slowly revealed to her. She was pleased to see he looked slightly more filled out that when she had first started to treat him. His ribs were less pronounced and muscle was becoming more defined. She let her hands trail over the skin feeling him shiver at her touch. She remembered how it felt when he had kissed her neck and her chest and so she experimented at doing the same hearing every groan and gasp, each one helping her to understand what he liked.

She alternated between using the pads of her fingers and her nails as she explored his skin and she found herself sliding her index finger along the top of his trousers wondering if she dared go lower.

She let her hand travel over the material and he jumped ever so slightly when her hand found his hardness. She glanced at his face to see that his eyes were dark in shadows and hooded with desire and she wanted to make him as happy as he had made her. It was that which gave her the courage to move her hands to the fastening of his trousers.

He put one hand over hers stilling her and in a low voice he asked her if she was sure. She had to swallow once before she could find enough voice to say that yes she was and that she wanted to do this for him.

He helped her with the buttons on the rough wool trousers and then he pushed them and his white boxers down his hips, releasing his manhood.

Molly let out a faint gasp at the sight of it. She had seen the flaccid penises of the bodies in the morgue at Barts and line drawings of them in her medical books but nothing had really prepared her for the sight of an erect penis in real life. She knew her eyes were wide as she took in the size of it, wondering in the back of her mind how any female body could accommodate such a thing, which then led to her wondering whether she could manage it.

She let her fingers ghost over the length of it and when it suddenly bobbed up and down she pulled her hand back and giggled in surprise.

Sherlock sat up a little and looked down the length of his body. 'Are you laughing at my manhood, Molly Hooper?'

She tried to straighten her expression, worrying that she might have offended him somehow. 'No, no of course not. I...just...I've never seen one looking so...so...'

He frowned a little. 'So what?'

'So big. I hardly know what to do with it.'

'You can take me in hand Molly; just wrap your fingers around it.'

She did as he asked and was surprised again by how hard it was and yet how silky soft the skin was. She felt a flood of warmth and wetness in her quim and she knew that this was arousing her as well as him.

'Hold it a little tighter...yes, God yes, just like that. Now just move your hand up and down.'

She tried to do as he asked but she was worried that she might get it wrong and hurt him. In the end he wrapped his own hand over the top of hers and he guided her movements; taking long, slow strokes up and down his cock. She could hardly believe that she was doing such a thing but she was fascinated to see it and to also to be able to see his reactions.

As the pace started to increase she could see that he was getting more enjoyment. He was letting out a constant stream of quiet encouragement, telling her how good it felt and how much he was enjoying it and how close he was.

His hand was still over hers assisting her and as his other hand suddenly went for the pocket of his jacket she felt his erection start to pulse.

He closed his eyes and let out a long, low groan as creamy white liquid started to pump from the end and he just about managed to catch most of it in the hankerchief that he had found, with just a couple of small splashes of it lying on his chest.

Molly found herself acting on instinct when she bent over him and swiped one of the splashes up with her tongue. It tasted salty and strange, like nothing else she had ever tasted before. She moved and did the same with the other small patch and Sherlock let out another groan and she could feel his now slightly softer manhood still pulsing under her touch.

He wiped up the rest with his hankerchief and she lay back down beside him whist he redid his trousers. He made to move off the bed but she caught hold of his arm. For some reason she suddenly felt a little nervous and vulnerable about how far she had let him go and she needed to feel safe and comforted. 'Please, won't you stay a little longer?'

He looked round at her and must have seen her need in her eyes because he nodded and lay back down holding his arm out so that she could snuggle up next to him.

He kissed the top of her head and chuckled quietly. 'Oh you must be special Molly to make me hold you after I've had my relief. I don't think I've done this before.'

She wrapped her arm around his waist and closed her eyes feeling an overwhelming tiredness washing over her. A part of her felt a sting of jealousy as she wondered how many other women had experienced something like this with him but she didn't want to ask for fear that the answer would be worse than not knowing.

She could feel his hand making lazy circles on her back and she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It was early morning when Molly woke up with a start. Mary had just come into the room and she had let out a surprised cry which she muted as she quickly closed the door behind her.

It was only as Molly tried to sit up that she realised with a horrifying swoop of her stomach that Sherlock was still in her bed.

She looked at Mary who was looking back at her with equal shock.

'Molly,' she hissed. 'What the hell is he doing here? If the others find him...'

It was at that moment that Sherlock let out a loud yawn and Molly once again found herself putting her hand over his mouth to try to cover the sound. He opened his eyes sleepily and she felt his smile as he looked at her before eventually noticing Mary who was still stood by the door.

'Morning Mary...Molly...it appears we may have fallen asleep. Oops.'

'Oops does not even begin to cover it Mr Holmes. You know what will happen if you are caught in here. I suggest you redress yourself...' She waved her hand at his open shirt. '...and make your way out whichever way you came in. I'm assuming it was the window.'

Sherlock sat up and started to button up his shirt before he stood and picked up his stick. 'It was, though I seem to remember it wasn't that easy to climb in maybe I can just go out of the front door; after all no one else is awake yet.'

Mary frowned. 'How can you be so cavalier about this? I am horrified and disappointed at your behaviour.'

'Oh, don't be so bourgeois Mary and please don't think to judge Molly...not when I know you have done worse with John. And before you berate him no he hasn't told me any confidences but the signs are there if you know what to look for. Do we understand each other?'

Mary's lips flattened out into an angry line for a moment before she seemed to deflate. She shook her head but smiled. 'Go...now, but for God's sake be quiet.'

She opened the door to their room and watched as Sherlock gave Molly a quick kiss before he walked past her and out into the front room. They both listened as they heard the front door open and close and then Mary closed their bedroom door before leaning back against it.

'Molly Hooper what on earth have you been up to?'

In the end Molly made them both a cup of tea whilst Mary got herself ready for bed. Then they sat under the covers sipping their drinks whilst Molly admitted, without going into too much detail, what she had let Sherlock do.

Mary shook her head in disbelief. 'Well, as he said I am hardly one to judge but just be careful Molly. Physical pleasures are difficult to resist but we cannot give way to a man without first securing him and as far as I am aware Mr Holmes has not yet betrothed himself to you. Don't give yourself away to cheaply...I know it is hard but even in this time of tragedy and death we cannot afford to lose all our values.'

Molly nodded but didn't say much. Her mind was still on their actions of the night before and she somehow knew that the next time they were together there would be the desire to go so much further and she honestly didn't know if she had it within her to deny him. She did resolve however to talk to him about his feelings, the time had come and she could procrastinate no longer.

The trouble was the war had different ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pesky things wars they get in the way of so many good things...but I shall not go down the discussing war route. Let's stick with the goodness that is Sherlolly.


	13. Chapter 13

It started three days later when she came across Sherlock walking down a corridor without his stick and showing very little signs of a limp. She felt a wash of fear flow over her and she looked around cautiously to see who else might be near. There were a couple of other soldiers, one a leg amputee struggling with his crutches and the other helping his friend even though he himself only had one arm.

She hurried over. 'Mr Holmes, I am surprised to see you without your stick.'

Sherlock had been smiling but it turned to a frown. 'Why? You know perfectly well the progress I am making.'

'Yes...yes I do,' she lowered her voice slightly. 'But it isn't safe. The army is sending some officers soon to check progress and...'

He put his hand on her arm and shook his head. 'Molly, I am no coward. I cannot say that I would be happy to go back to the front line but if that is what is required of me I will not shirk it. Anyway my brother is confident that the war is in its final stages. He predicts two months at most and he is rarely wrong.'

'Yes but...'

'No buts Molly. You can't and shouldn't protect me from this.'

He suddenly let go of her arm and stood back. 'Thank you for your concern. Good day to you Doctor Hooper.'

Molly glanced behind her and saw a couple of other doctors joining them in the corridor.

She nodded her head. 'Good day Mister Holmes.'

She couldn't help the nagging fear that stayed with her as she went about her duties for the rest of that day. She hoped that she would get another chance to see him but she was disappointed.

Just as she had told him the Army examiners arrived promptly at eight o'clock the next morning. There were five of them and they soon set up a rota to go to each ward with the accompanying doctor to check on the progress of those patients who may be able to return to active duty.

Molly hated to see any of her men returned to that hell-hole but the agony that seemed to accompany her as she led them into Sherlock's ward almost took her breath away. The Major who was with her was also a qualified doctor and he was uncaring in his assessment of the men; treating them little better than livestock to be used and abused. He had already re-enlisted five men against Molly's advice with his criteria for wellness being much lower than her own. Only the obviously insane and amputees were safe.

His assessment of Sherlock took less than five minutes before he gave his conclusion.

'Fit for service. Pack up your things and be ready to leave by seventeen hundred hours at the front of the hospital.'

'Wh..where will he go?' Asked Molly, as she struggled to rein in her emotions.

The Major turned to her with an angry look. 'I hardly think that is any business of yours Miss Hooper.'

Sherlock couldn't help himself. 'That's Doctor Hooper to you.'

'And I am Major Donovan to you Captain. And I can still hardly believe that they have allowed a woman to treat some of our men. You are totally unfit for the job...far too emotional.'

He turned on his heel and moved further into the room. Molly knew she had to go with him but she had to see Sherlock before he left. There were no guarantees that she would ever see him again.

She quickly whispered. 'Come to my room at two.'

He nodded and she had to force herself to move away from him. It was the hardest thing she had ever had to do. She wanted to scream and cry and hold on to him with all her strength but she couldn't. She felt utterly powerless.

When she looked back on those few hours between Sherlock being given his orders and him turning up at her lodge she had little recollection of what she had said or done. She had stumbled behind the Major answering his questions in a perfunctory manner and going through the motions of what was expected of her but all the while her mind was on Sherlock and the fact that he was leaving her.

Finally she was able to get away from the hated Major and the hospital. She hurriedly tracked down John and explained what was happening as she begged him to cover her wards for a couple of hours that afternoon.

John started to shake his head but Molly took his arm and pleaded with him, asking him how he would feel if Mary were being sent away.

'I am more than a little shocked and it is against my better judgment Miss Hooper. I suspect I know why you want this time and I am not in agreement with it. However, as you say if our situations were reversed I would probably want the same. Tell him I will be in my quarters from four o'clock and I would be glad of the chance to say my farewells.'

'I will and...thank you Doctor Watson.' Impulsively she leant up and kissed him on his cheek and when she pulled away she could see he was blushing and trying to not smile.

He cleared his throat and nodded his head once and Molly turned and made her way back to her lodge as fast as she could. A glance at her pocket watch told her that it was almost two and all she could think was that she only had two hours left with him and it wasn't enough, it would never be enough.

As soon as she got to the front door Sherlock came out from around the side where he had been waiting. She fumbled with her key and he had to take it from her grasp to help her open the door.

'I take it we'll be alone?'

She nodded her head. 'Yes, two of the girls are away in leave and the others will be working. Sherlock I...'

She struggled to go on as the tears she had been holding back finally started to overwhelm her.

He glanced around to make sure they weren't being observed and then guided her through the now open door.

'I know Molly, I know but we knew this moment would come and we have no choice. I may be rebellious by nature but I will do my duty to my King and my country.'

Molly mutely nodded her head. She knew he was right but it didn't mean she liked it. It did clarify one thing in her mind though and she took his hand and led him through to her bedroom.

Silently she drew the curtains so they wouldn't be observed and then she walked back up to him and placed her hand on his chest over his heart. He didn't say anything but when he mirrored her action and placed his hand over her heart it said more to her than his words ever could.

Slowly he brought his lips down to hers and they shared the most tender kiss that Molly had ever known. All their pain and regrets seemed to be poured into it and they wound their arms about each other holding on as tight as they could.

Gradually bit by bit the kiss morphed into something far more passionate until Molly couldn't stand it anymore. She knew it was wrong, knew it with every remembrance of her upbringing but she couldn't bring herself to care enough to stop. She needed him; it was like an ache deep within her a desperate clawing need that she had to satisfy.

As they fell onto her small bed she was already pulling at his clothes wanting to feel his skin, naked and bare to her touch. She was nervous but certain that he would go at her pace and teach her all she needed to know.

He knelt up briefly and pulled his shirt over his head throwing it to the ground and then he was lying on her again, kissing her and pressing her into the mattress. The weight of him felt so right and she wanted to feel him on her and in her. She knew she should be ashamed for thinking such a thing but she wasn't, she felt so desperate to be joined with him that she even shimmied her skirt up her hips so she could spread her legs a little allowing him to lie between them. As he did she could feel that he was hard and ready for her, pressing himself against her in a way that had her gasping for breath. It felt so good.

Her skin felt as though it were on fire and his lips left tingling trails wherever they went. He started to unbutton her shirt but tore it in his frustration and when she felt him pull down her loose corset and take her breast into his mouth she worried she might actually pass out from the sensations flooding through her body.

She wished someone had told her honestly that being with a man could excite her in this way. When she had thought about sex it had only been from the perspective of the children it would create. No one had ever said that she would get such pleasure from it and she was certainly getting that. She could feel every movement of his body, every swirl of his tongue and 'oh God' every bite of his teeth on her sensitive nipple. She heard herself crying out and begging him for more and he gave her what she needed.

As he gave attention to her breasts she felt his hand on her knee before it slid it's way up her thigh until he reached the soft cotton of her cami-knickers. She felt herself pout when he sat up and had to struggle against the instinct to cover her naked breasts from his gaze. It was only when his other hand moved up her left leg that she realised what he was wanting to do and she lifted up her hips so he could slide her underwear down her legs and off.

As he gazed at her bare womanhood she felt her face heating up in embarrassment. He looked almost reverent and for a moment she thought he might even kiss her 'down there' and the thought both shocked her and aroused her in equal measure. He glanced up and must have deduced her thoughts from her expression because he lay back down and before he kissed her he just said, 'in time Molly, but maybe not for your first time. Are you sure?'

She mutely nodded as she felt his hand between her legs, his fingers lazily moving over the skin on the inside of her thigh. She wasn't sure she could actually speak even if she wanted to.

'Just say if you want me to stop at any time. I can't say it would be easy for me but I would endeavour to do so.'

Again she just bit her lip and nodded and then she felt his hand move to her quim and she had to close her eyes and just focus on his touch and nothing else. She let out a gasp as he pressed his fingers against her. He seemed to be finding nerve endings that she didn't even know existed. She didn't even have the words to describe how it felt but she knew she didn't want him to stop. It was similar to the feelings she had experienced with him the other night but so much more.

Her eyes shot back open however and her hands grappled at his shoulders as his fingers breached her entrance. 'Oh...'

'Shall I stop?'

Molly's head whirled but she knew one thing absolutely. 'No, God no.'

He bent his head and captured her lips as his fingers started to move within her, slowly at first but then moving more surely. She knew she was moaning into his mouth as he kissed her and she could feel his hips rocking in time with his hand but all her thoughts were centred on that strange but familiar feeling which seemed to be growing between her thighs.

She could feel her internal muscles almost moving of their own accord and although at first his movements had felt strange they now seemed natural and right.

Just as she thought she could take no more he removed his hand and she could have cried in frustration at the loss of it. Instead he leant to one side and started to unbutton his trousers and she realised that this was it...the moment of no return. If she went through with this she would no longer be a virgin, a maiden. She was giving him the most precious gift that she could. She had wondered when they got to this time whether she would have any doubts but she had none. She wanted to do this and regardless of the future she wanted it to be him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all going to hate me aren't you for leaving it there, but don't worry I'll be back soon with the next chapter. Good things come to those who wait ;). Is Molly doing the right thing though? What would you do?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a few of you have been worrying about and predicting this chapter for a while and now it's here. There's sweet and angst in equal measure. I shall catch up with you at the end.

She just looked at his face as he concentrated on his fastenings. She wished she could memorise how he looked right now in this exact moment. He caught her looking and he smiled and it lit up his whole face and she couldn't help but smile back at him in return.

'Lift your knees a little higher and try to relax.'

She nodded and let out an 'alright' which sounded breathy and nervous even to her own ears.

He moved back onto her holding his weight on his left arm as he used his right hand to position himself. She felt him pushing at her entrance and it was only then that she realised how much bigger he was than his fingers had been. He went slowly but she could feel him stretching her in a way she had never experienced before. She started to tense up but remembered him telling her to try to relax so she concentrated on his face instead and tried to regulate her breathing even as she felt her heart hammering against her chest bone.

There was a sharp burning pain which made her gasp and he stopped, asking her if she was alright. She knew from her medical knowledge what had just happened and after a moment she nodded her head. He bent to kiss her once more before continuing.

Slowly but surely he pushed into her until he could go no further and it felt so good to finally be joined with him. She didn't ever want to lose him, she knew she would never be able to bear it. She moved her hands from his shoulders to his neck and slid one hand into the silky curls on his head so she could pull him to her for another kiss. She felt so overwhelmed with emotion and physical sensation that she knew tears were starting to fall but she ignored them.

His kiss was just as slow and full of feeling and she hoped that this meant as much to him as it did to her.

A moment later he started to draw his hips away before gently thrusting back inside her and she broke off from the kiss, gasping at the arousing feeling flooding through her body. Her hands left his head and instead moved under his arms, which were supporting his weight, and down the skin of his back and before she knew what she was doing she pressed her hands onto his naked backside as she encouraged him to go deeper into her. She was riding on instinct and just doing what felt right and necessary.

He gradually increased his pace and as he did he started to tell her how she felt and what he wanted to do to her. All these deliciously dirty things which no man ought to say to any woman but they just aroused her even further and before she knew what was happening she was experiencing that most amazing feeling again. She seemed to lose all sense of time as her body took over her mind. She couldn't think of anything but the waves of pure ecstasy which seemed to be washing over her. It was only as she started to come back to herself that she realised she was saying his name over and over.

He was still moving inside her, faster now, and she knew he was chasing his own pleasure. She relished him pounding into her, being with him so intimately especially given they were soon to be torn apart.

She dug her nails into his backside encouraging him on as she kissed his neck and throat and then she felt his release. He thrust himself deep inside her as he let out her name on a low moan and then he sagged against her and she held him to her; wishing that time would stand still and they could stay locked together forever.

Time had other plans though and seemed to be working against Molly that afternoon. They held each other and kissed and held each other some more but every time she glanced at the clock the minutes had flown by and before she knew it he was sitting up and starting to redress.

'I wish you didn't have to go. I'm not ready to say goodbye.'

He turned and gave her a sad kind of half smile. 'Then don't think of it as goodbye. Think of it as au revoir. We will see each other again Molly of that I am sure.'

She wanted to ask him when and how but she knew that he had no more answers than she did. She started to get up herself but he stopped her.

'Don't...don't come with me. Let my last memory of you be here in this bed where we made love. I'm not good with emotions Molly or thinking about my own mortality but if this is the moment we have to part then this is the image of you that I want to take with me. With your lips bruised from my kisses and your hair spread over the pillow.'

She lay back down and watched as he pulled his boots back on. She willed herself not to shed any more tears whilst he was here with her. There would be plenty of time for crying when he had gone.

He turned and bending over her he pressed one last kiss to her forehead. He seemed to pause as he looked at her and then he kissed her one last time. It was a kiss that held so much promise of what they could be and Molly wanted to burn the memory of it into her very soul. She wanted to remember the feel of his lips moving against hers, the silky softness of his hair under her fingers and the musky, masculine scent of him which made her mouth water.

She closed her eyes as they kissed and when she opened them he was on his feet and opening her door. 'Au revoir Molly Hooper.'

Then he was gone and her world felt as though it were collapsing.

She knew she couldn't indulge in her grief for long. She had more ward rounds to complete before her day was done and she wasn't special; how many other woman across the country had had to say good bye to sons, husbands, lovers and brothers? They were all in the same boat and she just had to pull herself together and get on with it. But she gave herself one hour. One hour to cry and scream and rail against the men who had caused this damned war in the first place. Then she got up, changed her clothes, hiding her torn shirt at the back of her closet where she could keep it as a remembrance, tangible proof of their coupling. She washed her face and put her hair back up and then she left her lodge and made her way back up to the hospital.

As she did a convoy of soldiers and horses were making their way along the road away from the hospital. She stopped for a moment and watched them knowing that one of those men was the love of her life. She was thankful that he was too far away for her to make him out because it made it easier for her to turn her back and walk away.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It was six weeks before Molly realised the enormity of her situation. She had hardly given a thought to her monthly curse with all the work she was involved in but eventually the truth sank in that she wasn't just late she was very late. She was also more tired than normal and some of her tastes had changed. Food she had once loved now made her feel a little nauseous. As a doctor she had no doubt of the cause. She was pregnant with the child of a man who she hadn't heard from since the day he had left.

Whilst they had left so much unspoken she had been sure that he would write, maybe not a letter but a note, a word...something, but there had been nothing. She even made tentative enquiries with Mary to see if John had heard from him; laughing off Mary's surprise and shaking her head and saying she was sure he'd be in touch soon and not to worry. The pregnancy though, that changed everything. She suddenly had it brought into sharp relief that she had no idea where he was and she had no way of contacting him. In her darker moments she realised she didn't even know if he were alive or dead. After all who would tell her if he was lost to the war?

She covered up her predicament for another week before Mary found her in tears in their room and the whole sorry truth came out. Mary discreetly spoke to John asking if he had any way he could contact Sherlock on Molly's behalf to see if he could inform him of the situation and it was then that things became even worse for Molly.

John told Mary of Sherlock's plan to seduce Molly in order to guarantee himself better treatment. When Mary then told Molly she shook her head in horror.

'No, Mary, he wouldn't do that. He was better than that. I know he was.'

'Molly, be honest with yourself did he ever declare himself to you? Did he ever give you any guarantee of his feelings or of his intentions towards you either now or after the war?'

Molly cast her mind over all their interactions her mouth opening wanting to prove Mary wrong even as her brow furrowed and tears leaked from her eyes.

'Oh Molly.' Mary wrapped her arms around her friend and held her as her heart broke.

'I've been such a fool Mary. I thought he had feelings for me. I thought he felt as I did, that we shared a connection.'

As a last resort John wrote to the brother he had heard Sherlock mention, General Mycroft Holmes in London. He addressed it c/o the Army headquarters certain that it would at least get to him. It was an unusual enough name and a senior enough position that they would know how to direct it on.

It took three more agonising weeks for a reply to come through and when it did it was curt, dismissive and devastating.

Knowing my brother as I do I would be more than surprised if he were to have engaged in any relationship with this girl. If she was of such loose morals as to get herself into this predicament I would have thought her knowledge of paternity to be unreliable in the least.

I trust you will make no further effort to contact myself or any member of my family again if you wish to keep this matter quiet.

Yours sincerely,

General Mycroft Holmes GCB CBE MC DL

It was the final nail in the coffin for Molly's hopes.

The only bright spot was the war finally ended, just as Sherlock had predicted, on 11th November 1918 and there were numerous celebrations which took place throughout the hospital and the local area but Molly took part in none of them.

She gave her notice at the hospital. She agreed to work until the end of the month but she knew she couldn't risk staying any longer after that or her shame would be known by everyone.

She had never dreamt that when she had arrived in Netley all those months ago that she would be leaving with such a heavy heart and a sense of guilt at having been so reckless and foolish. She had no idea how her mother would take the news or even if she would take Molly back in, she had not just brought shame to herself but to her mother and to the memory of the father that she had held so dear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I know this chapter has ended badly but it isn't the end of the story and for those of you who have been expressing concern about Molly's situation...well, you were right to be concerned.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you're all worried about how this is going to play out and I can only hope that I have done it justice.

It was after all the Christmas and New Year celebrations that Sherlock turned up once more at the hospital in Netley. This time he rode up on his black horse as a visitor rather than being stretchered up from the pier.

He finally tracked John down and enjoyed the look of surprise on the man's face as they embraced.

'Watson you look as if you had seen a ghost. Did you not expect me to return?'

John shook his head in disbelief. 'Honestly, no. I have heard nothing from you since you left in the middle of September. It was as though you had fallen off the face of the earth. One word, Holmes, just a simple note or sign to let me know you were still alive. That's all it would have took.'

Sherlock scowled. 'Pfft. No time...or inclination. I've never been one for writing letters. What time do you finish here old man we need to drink to celebrate the end of the war?'

John glanced at his pocket watch. 'Another two hours at most.' He dug around in his pocket. 'Here's the key to my rooms, you are obviously cold and look exhausted, go and make yourself at home. I can arrange for a guest bed to be made up for you.'

'Thank you, I confess that I am tired; I travelled overnight to get here as soon as I could. I shall see you soon then, but first I must find Molly; do you know where she might be?'

'Ah...you don't know then. She's not here. Listen I have to get on, I will meet you in my rooms as soon as I can and will inform you of all that has happened.'

At that point John was called over to a man who seemed to be in the grip of a delirium and he left a shocked and curious Sherlock holding onto the key and wondering what might have happened.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHS

By the time John made it to his rooms Sherlock was impatiently pacing up and down. He turned as soon as John entered.

'So I managed to find out that Molly left early December but no one seemed to know why although there was gossip. I don't want gossip though I want the truth John.'

'Fine, fine and I'll give it to you just sit down, you're making me nervous. Whiskey?'

Sherlock nodded but rather than sit he just rested against the writing desk that John had set up for himself against one wall.

John brought the drinks over and the two of them clinked glasses. 'To the end of that god awful war. I take it they sent you back.'

Sherlock shook his head. 'No, my brother pulled me out. He had an urgent mission for me abroad, liaising with a man called Magnussen who was doing his damnedest to extend the war for his own financial gain. I was sent to...ah...reason with him.'

Sherlock turned his head slightly as an image of Magnussen's shocked expression at the moment he'd shot him flashed before his eyes. He shook it off though and brought himself and John back to the matter in hand.

'I only arrived back in England last night and came straight here. So where's Molly and why did she leave? I have my theories, of course, but I need confirmation.'

John bit his lip wondering how his friend would take the news. His keenness to know where she was was giving him a slightly different impression of the man's feelings and he was starting to worry that maybe he'd got things wrong.

'You have to understand...we tried our best Mary and I but no one had any idea where you were or how to get hold of you.'

Sherlock stood putting his empty glass down. 'John...just tell me.'

'She was with child...your child.'

Sherlock frowned. 'No need to specify John, who else's child would it be or are you implying something?'

John brought his hands up placatingly. 'No, no of course not. Anyway, she had reached a point where it would start to show and people would talk.'

Sherlock brought his fist down on the table and leant against it breathing heavily. 'Of course they would. Narrow minded, judgmental, two-faced bastards. It's fine for a man to fuck anything that moves but heaven or should that be hell help a woman who has sex with the man she loves. She has to pay for it with the loss of her dignity, her status in society and her career. I wish we lived in more enlightened times Watson but we don't. I'm assuming she went home to her mother's.'

He started to gather his things and John put his hand in his friend's arm in concern. 'Yes...yes, but listen, you can't leave now. It's dark and it must be a good four or five hour ride. Plus it's freezing cold and your horse will be exhausted. Just stay tonight and leave in the morning.'

Sherlock put his head in his hands for a moment and then pushed them through his hair, which had started to grow out again into the familiar curls.

'I suppose you're right. The journey here took almost eight hours and I could do with a rest. But dammit man you must have made some efforts to contact me...through the war office or something?'

'I did, believe me I did. I wrote to your brother.'

Sherlock made no effort to hide his shock. 'My brother! Mycroft?'

'Yes, why do you have another one?'

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. 'It's not important. I can just imagine what Mycroft might have said...insufferable prig.'

John found and passed him the typed note and stood back watching his friends expression. He saw him close his eyes and take a deep breath before balling the note up in his fist.

It took a moment for Sherlock to school his expression but then he smiled at John. 'To be expected. But let us put this behind us for tonight. I will leave first thing tomorrow to find Molly but in the meantime come let us have another drink and we can catch up properly.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

The next morning was cold and icy and John pulled his coat and muffler closer as he waved his friend goodbye. He hoped he would make good time on his journey and arrive before the weather turned any worse.

It took Sherlock most of the day to get to his destination; two train journeys and the hiring of another horse and then another hour's ride. He was aiming for the small town of Reigate in Surrey which Molly had mentioned once or twice in their conversations. He finally made it to the Bridge House Coaching Inn on the top of Reigate Hill just after 6.00pm and he booked in for the night and watched as his horse was taken off to the stables to be fed and watered. He then gratefully turned to the welcome warmth of the bar where he ordered a drink and some food.

As he waited for his beer to be poured he asked after the family of the late Doctor Hooper.

The middle aged barman turned his head. 'Oh yes, you know them do you? That man would turn in his grave if he knew how flighty that daughter of his turned out to be. It's said she's with child and not married or engaged or nothin'. I blame the war, there's many who have let their morals slip. You can't blame the men, I mean they knew they were like to be going to their death so it's down to the women to uphold the values isn't it?'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes as he took the man in.

'I'm surprised at you being so judgmental. As a man whose having an extra-marital affair with your much younger barmaid,' Sherlock indicated to the young woman who was serving food at a nearby table. 'I wouldn't have thought you would be one to cast stones.'

The man's mouth fell open in shock as he placed the pint in front of Sherlock. 'Sir, I can assure you...'

'No you can't and your lover appears to be three months along with child herself. Anyway, thanks for the pint.'

He made further enquiries with the barmaid as she brought his food noting that she seemed a little paler than before and he deduced she had obviously just had a difficult conversation with the erstwhile father of her child. She was more open and willingly gave him directions to their house and he only wished he could go straight there but given the time and the inclement weather he had to satisfy himself with a visit soon after breakfast.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly looked out of her bedroom window that evening and watched as the snow started to fall. She felt as if the recent weather was a direct reflection of her mood. She felt just as cold and dark and empty as the view she was afforded from her window.

She was grateful that her mother had taken her in but that didn't mean that their relationship hadn't been severely strained. Her mother had been very disappointed not just with Molly being unwed and with child but at her wasting the opportunity her father had worked so hard to give her.

'I was never a big believer in you studying to be a doctor but your father was. He thought you should have had the same opportunities that any son of ours would have had and now you've thrown it all away.'

Molly closed her eyes at the memory feeling tears sting once more. As she had every night and every morning for the last three and a half months she wished she knew where Sherlock was; whether he was alive or dead; whether he ever thought of her or not. She was still torn between her own gut feeling and the information that Mary had given her but either way it led to her being in the same place with the same problem.

She vowed that she wouldn't cry herself to sleep. She had to be stronger and try to take control of her life, but the tears still fell as they always did when she turned out her light.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock was up far too early in the morning and had to try to control his impatience and wait until after breakfast before he set out. Even so it was barely after nine when he knocked on the door of the Hooper's residence. He felt a nervous energy at the thought of seeing her again and he paced up and down waiting for the door to be answered.

Finally it was opened by a young looking maid.

'Good day is Miss Hooper at home?'

'Yes sir but she isn't receiving any visitors today sir.'

Sherlock flattened his lips in frustration. 'Is Mrs Hooper at home?'

'Yes sir. Who should I say is calling?'

'My name is Holmes, Captain Sherlock Holmes.'

She nodded and gestured for him to enter. 'If you'll just wait in here sir I'll inform madam of your arrival.'

She showed him into a room which had obviously once been Molly's fathers room; probably where he had seen patients. It had a dark wooden floor and a desk which now sat against one wall to accommodate some newer comfy chairs which seemed to be a recent addition. He was too energised to sit though and he strode about the room glancing at the photographs and pictures, seeing more of Molly's life.

He was having to rein himself back from just running up the stairs to find her. He needed to try to make this right and that meant following at least some of societies conventions.

The door opened and he turned to see an older version of Molly walk into the room. Mrs Hooper looked to be in her early fifties and was very well preserved for her age. She had the same slim frame as her daughter and similar dark hair and eyes but her back was ramrod straight and her whole demeanour was colder.

'So, am I to understand that you are the man who defiled my daughter and then abandoned her?'

Sherlock didn't even flinch. He made a show of casually leaning against the mantel piece.

'I neither defiled her not abandoned her. If I had abandoned her why would I be here now?'

'Maybe because you know that Molly is not unprotected. That your name would get out and society would judge you if you didn't attempt to put right your mistake. That is...I'm assuming you are here to ask for my daughter's hand.'

'If she wants me I am hers. She knows that, she has always known that.'

'Has she? Are you so sure? If that is the case then why does she cry herself to sleep every night?'

Sherlock stood upright and swallowed heavily. He remembered what John had told him about informing Molly that it had all been a ploy on Sherlock's behalf and for the first time he wondered if she might actually have believed it.

He then realised that Mrs Hooper had continued talking.

'If you had always intended to do the right thing by my daughter then why does she have no ring on her finger? Why did she have to travel home, alone, in disgrace? She tells me you are an intelligent man Captain Holmes but I am seeing nothing to reflect that. In fact you seem to have had a callous disregard for the precarious situation my daughter would be in when she realised her situation. Surely as a man of the world you knew the risks when you became physical with her?'

'I...yes...I mean no. It wasn't like that. I never thought...'

'You never thought...and therein is the problem isn't it Captain Holmes. For all your intelligence you never thought. So, why should I think that your claims now are valid and honest? Have you come with a ring for my daughter?'

Sherlock took a breath and tried to gather his thoughts. This woman had thrown him completely. He could see where Molly had inherited her determination. It was an attractive quality.

'I have not but that does not mean my intentions are not just. I will marry your daughter if she will have me.'

Mrs Hooper walked over to the window and stood for a moment with her back to Sherlock.

'I appreciate the gesture Mister Holmes, even if it is a little late. However, it appears you are "off the hook" as they say. My daughter lost the baby Just over a fortnight ago so it appears you are free to walk away. If you so choose.'

Sherlock felt so many emotions wash over him in that single moment that he struggled to find his answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I even need to ask you guys what you think his answer will be? I am nervous about your responses to this chapter though and I hope you like how the story has played out.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the angst in this story but we're close to the end now and will start to brighten up soon. Thank you for all your comment and reviews and for sticking with me.

Sherlock felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. His mind was whirling and he staggered slightly before sitting down heavily on one of the chairs as he took in what Molly's mother had said.

He put his head in his hands for a few seconds before looking up at Mrs Hooper. 'How's Molly?'

For the first time he saw her soften as she heard the emotion in his voice.

'She'll be fine, in time. The doctor doesn't think it will affect her ability to have children in the future.'

'Please...can I see her?'

'I'm not sure that would be wise.'

'If you don't let me see her today I will return tomorrow and the day after and the day after that until I can. I can be very persistent when I need to be.'

Mrs Hooper pursed her lips. 'Hmm yes I believe you can be. I make you no promises Captain Holmes but if you wait here I will see if she will accommodate you.'

She left the room and Sherlock heard her footsteps as she made her way up the stairs.

MHMHMHMMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly heard her mother tapping at her door and called out for her to come in. She didn't look round though as she came into the room and sat on the edge of Molly's bed.

'Molly, you have a visitor downstairs.'

'I don't care. Please mother, you know I don't want to see anyone.'

'I think you'll want to see this one. Molly...it's Captain Holmes.'

It took her a moment for her mother's words to sink in and then she rolled over. 'Sherlock...Sherlock's here.'

Her mum smiled and nodded her head. 'Yes. He asked if he could see you.'

'Does he know?'

'He does.'

Molly sat up and wiped away her tears. She couldn't help the way her stomach fell at the realisation that he was here, finally, after all these months. She tried to make sense of her feelings but they were so varied. She felt joy that he was alive, angry with him for deserting her so completely but also hope and nervous excitement. It was wrong but she felt it was the first piece of good news in months and even though she didn't know how their meeting would pan out she couldn't wait to see him.

'Please mother...help me with my dress. I need to do my hair...oh, my face looks awful.'

She started to pinch her cheeks trying to get some colour in them as her mother laughed. 'Molly calm down, if he truly loves you he won't care about how you look. I must say though he is very handsome, I can see why you fell for him...and in his uniform as well. I always did like a man in uniform.'

'Mother!'

'Don't mother me Molly Hooper. I just read that man a riot act and he's still here and still wants you. Come on let's get you dressed.'

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock was left waiting for almost thirty minutes although the maid furnished him with some tea at least. He didn't care though; he would have waited the whole day if he'd had to. He was starting to fully comprehend that his behaviour towards Molly was nothing to do with him rebelling against society and more to do with him being just plain selfish and thoughtless and he desperately needed to make it up to her.

The door handle started to turn and he was on his feet before she had even opened it.

As she walked in he could see the hardship she had endured over the last few months in the pallor of her skin, the redness of her eyes and in the fact that she had lost weight since he last saw her. She was still radiant to him though and he went to her and started to embrace her but she placed one hand on his chest and pushed him away.

'Mister Holmes, it is good to see you are unharmed. I...I confess I worried about you when you didn't write.'

'Molly, I am so sorry...for everything. Please, you still seem unwell, sit with me.'

He led her over to the small settee and pulled her down next to him. He could see more clearly now that she had been crying and his heart clenched with anger at himself.

She turned her head to him but he noticed that she wouldn't look him in the eye.

'Where were you?' Her voice was quiet and shaky but he could sense the anger and hurt which lay beneath her words.

'I had to travel to Belgium. My brother...'

'Your brother...General Mycroft Holmes? He knew all along where you were?'

Sherlock immediately knew what she was referring to. That damn letter that Mycroft had sent. He swore when he next saw him he would make his brother regret his cruel words.

'Yes, he needed me to carry out an assignment for him. I...I can only apologise Molly for what he said. My brother and I have always been quite insular in our ways. We don't have friends and he has certainly never known me to take a lover let alone to care about someone.'

He reached out his hand to hers, wanting...needing to feel connected to her in some way but she stood abruptly walking away from him; making him stand too.

'You have no idea...no idea at all what that letter did to my hopes, my dreams...my very belief in your regard for me and on top of that Dr Watson told me what you had planned to do; to seduce me for attention. What do you say to that?'

She turned and looked at him and he felt the full force of her anger and her feelings of betrayal and he swore he had never felt more ashamed in his life. It was a novel and unwelcome experience for a man of his character.

'I was a fool, Molly. I didn't even realise my own heart until it was lost to you. I should have set John right but I was embarrassed and confused. You have to understand Molly that I have never felt like this for anyone else.'

'And you have to understand Mr Holmes that I don't understand the inner workings of your heart because you never told me. You never once expressed your feelings for me. You left me, with no way to contact you, no knowledge of whether you were even alive or dead.'

'Please Molly...'

He stepped forward, seeing the tears that were starting to slide down her cheeks, and held his hand out to her but she slapped it away, stepping closer to him, anger radiating off her.

'No, you don't get to just say please and have me fall into your arms. You left me...and I was so scared and alone. I hate you for making me feel like that. Do you understand? I hate you, I hate you.'

As she said the words she hit his chest with her small fists. It didn't much hurt but he stepped back in shock as she continued her assault.

'I'm sorry Molly, I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to hurt you.'

He caught her flailing hands in his own and pulled her closer to him, desperate to calm her but instead she seemed to collapse against him crying more earnestly.

'God I wish I hated you but I hate myself so much more. I lost our baby...I'm so sorry Sherlock, I lost our baby and I wanted it so very, very much. I wanted some small part of you to call my own.'

For the first time in his adult life Sherlock felt his own tears on his cheeks as he held Molly to his chest, kissing the top of her head and holding her as close as he could.

He voice felt choked and strangled even to his own ears. 'It wasn't your fault; none of it was your fault. You have nothing to be sorry about...nothing...'

As her tears eventually subsided he once again led her back to the sofa sitting down with her but still holding her close.

'I need you to know Molly that in the time we were parted you were always in my heart and never far from my thoughts. I know now that this is no excuse and that nothing can make up for how I treated you but when I was sent abroad by my brother my situation was a dangerous one, very dangerous. I was genuinely concerned that if any letter sent to you were intercepted it could potentially put you in danger. It didn't mean I didn't write them though.'

Slowly he released his hold on her so he could put his hand into his inside pocket. He pulled out a packet of letters wrapped in a purple ribbon and he held them out to her.

For the first time since her collapse her eyes met with his and he saw her confusion mixed with an element of hope.

She took the packet from him and undid the bow. There were about twenty letters and she pulled one out at random.

My dearest Molly,

I have been away from you now for two months and it feels like a lifetime. It is not just our physical union that I miss but the afternoons that we spent in front of the hospital just talking. I long to continue our conversations about pathology and crime and the future we could have in London after the war. I know we didn't talk much about that time but I long for it. I long to live my life with you by my side.

I close my eyes and the memory of you in your bed comes to me. Your hair was down, just as I like it and your lips were red from my kisses. It is these memories which keep me going now, ensuring I come back to you safe and as soon as possible.

Until the moment that I can lie in your arms again know that I am and always will be your

Sherlock

He saw her gasp and the tears start to come into her eyes again and he took up the courage to reach out for her hand. It seemed so small in his own and he felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him. Before he really knew what he was doing he was down on one knee in front of her watching as a blush came to her cheeks.

'Molly, my Molly. I know I have failed you and I let you down when you needed me the most but I give you my solemn vow that if you consent to be my wife I will spend the rest of my life trying to be better...for you. Please Molly, will you do me the honour of agreeing to become my wife?'

Part of Molly wanted to continue to be angry with him. She wanted to shout and yell and beat on his chest again so he knew just what agonies she had been through in the last couple of months but she also knew that she loved him, she always had and she always would.

He must have sensed her hesitation because he tightened his grip on her hand.

'I know you are still angry and hurt with me and you have every right to be. You can shout and berate me as much as you like but please put me out of my misery first. Tell me your answer.'

He looked so bereft that Molly couldn't help the smile that spread across her face as she looked down into his earnest expression. She knew that being married to him would be infuriating and exciting and terrifying in equal measure. He had so much drive and was nonconformist and drawn to danger but she simply couldn't imagine her life without him in it. She paused, no that wasn't true she had spent the last couple of months without him and it had been unbearable.

'Mister Holmes...Sherlock, there is but one answer that I can give you and that is yes, yes I will be your wife.'

This time when he leant towards her she didn't push him away, instead she welcomed his embrace and as he kissed her she felt as though she were finally home. She knew he meant for the kiss to be chaste but she couldn't help herself when she caught his face in her hands and tilted his head so she could deepen the kiss. She had missed him, she had missed this. This feeling of closeness and intimacy that she received from his kisses.

She knew they couldn't take things further not when her body was still recovering and not when she was in her parent's house but it didn't mean she didn't want him.

When the kiss finally ended they were both breathless and they stayed close, their foreheads touching and their hands still holding on to each other.

There was a gentle tap at the door before it opened and Mrs Hooper came in to find her daughter and Captain Holmes still in each other's embrace. Sherlock immediately stood and put some distance between himself and Molly not wanting to anger her mother.

She looked appraisingly between the two and it was Molly who spoke first.

'Mother, it is all resolved. Sherlock...that is Captain Holmes and I are engaged to be married and we would like to marry as soon as possible.'

Sherlock found that just like with Molly he couldn't read her mother's potential reaction at all. He suddenly felt nervous that this small woman had the power to make their marriage a swift or difficult affair and he didn't know which route she would take.

Thankfully it was the former as she gave her daughter a wide smile and opened her arms to embrace her.

'Well, Molly for that I am very glad.' She let her daughter go and turned to Sherlock. 'Captain Holmes, it seems I am to welcome you into our family. Please, tell me you will stay to lunch so I can get to know you better. I have yet to hear about your family and your situation. I need to know that my daughter will be well maintained though I already know that you are supportive of her profession.'

Sherlock tolerated her quick embrace and smiled. 'I am more than happy for Molly to pursue her career. Her independence and intelligence were just two of the qualities that attracted me to her and I would be happy to stay longer.'

In the end Sherlock's stay in Reigate lasted for as long as it took them to arrange the wedding and even though Molly tried to progress their physical relationship in the hours that they spent alone he laughingly kept her waiting with the promise that it would make their wedding night all the more special.

Molly found that she couldn't wait to be joined with him in every way possible and was only frustrated at how long it all seemed to take. Even with the help of Sherlock's brother who seemed to be able to cast influence even over the Church of England it was still three weeks before she found herself walking down the aisle towards this man who had brought her to life and she couldn't wait to start her life with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're down to the last couple of chapters. I know some of you will probably have wanted Sherlock to suffer longer given everything he put Molly through but at the end of the day I think Molly knew he would come good for her and she didn't want to waste time being angry with him when she could be loving him instead. I'll understand if you all feel differently thought let me know.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you all liked how Molly and Sherlock were reunited. There have been a few requests for seeing the Sherlock Mycroft reunion and whilst it's not covered in detail I hope there's enough there for you to gather just how that meeting went.
> 
> And thank you to the amazing @cumbercougars (lunacatd) for the perfect photo manipulation of Molly & Sherlock's wedding. I hope you all love it as much as I do.

 

Sherlock could barely believe that it was his wedding day, if he had been asked the question a year ago he would have been certain that he would never marry. That he would never find anyone who would fit him so perfectly that he would even consider it. But that would have been before he met Molly Hooper. From the first moment he had met her he knew that she was different. A woman forging a career not just in a man's world but in a male dominated role. It wasn't just her career though she complemented and completed him in so many ways and he just couldn't imagine his life, moving forwards, without her in it.

He heard the music striking up and he stood with John by his side. The wedding party on both sides was small with just John, Mycroft, sporting a cut lip and barely healed black eye and his parents on Sherlock's and Mary, Mrs Hooper and Dr Mike Stamford on Mollys. In fact Molly had asked Mike Stamford to give her away in the absence of her own father. Sherlock already approved of the man particularly as, following a conversation with Sherlock, he had agreed to see if Molly could be given a position in the fledgling pathology unit in Barts.

The wedding was taking place in St Marys Church London which was the closest to Baker St. They'd discussed having a honeymoon but decided against it. The idea of travelling left Sherlock cold. He'd just made it back to England and he longed to be in his own home and Molly was keen to be his wife in their own home from day one.

So it had been agreed. Mycroft, following a difficult and prolonged conversation with his brother, had finally acknowledged that the impossible had happened and his younger brother had lost his heart to a most deserving woman and had arranged for a licence.

Molly and her mother had stayed in a very exclusive little hotel not far from the church all paid for by Sherlock, which had vastly impressed her mother, and Sherlock's housekeeper, Mrs Hudson, had laid on a selection of sandwiches and cakes for the wedding party to enjoy after the ceremony.

Sherlock found the hours following the service some of the longest of his life. His only time alone with his new bride had been on the short carriage ride from the church to his house and all that had done was inflame his passion without any opportunity to quench it. As the carriage had moved away Molly had barely waited for them to get out of earshot of their family and friends before she had turned to her husband and pulled him to her for a blistering kiss which had completely caught him off guard.

'I am so happy to finally be your wife, how long do you think it will be before we can politely get rid of our guests because I find myself recalling our time at Netley and I want to feel the way I felt there. I find I want to explore you and spend time with you and learn how to make you happy.'

He chuckled at her obvious enthusiasm for sex. He had always known that she had a hidden fire and it seemed that now they were married she felt more comfortable about revealing her desire for him, not that she'd been particularly shy with him over the previous three weeks. It had, surprisingly, been him keeping them to society's expectation that they wait; that and Molly's mother taking her chaperoning duties quite seriously. They had never had more than ten or fifteen minutes alone since he had proposed and all it had meant was that they had had three weeks of frustration and pent up sexual desire all waiting to burst forth.

Sherlock had cleared his diary for the next week so they had plenty of time to "get to know each other as husband and wife" and it seemed Molly was just as eager as he was to start.

But before they could they had to endure the wedding meal. Mrs Hudson had done them proud and had even baked and iced a wedding cake which had pride of place in the centre of the table. She had also cleaned Sherlock's apartments from top to bottom and he barely recognised his old home. He had only been back in it for less than a week and already the war seemed like a distant nightmare...one that would no doubt rear its ugly head from time to time but it was past and Sherlock intended to focus on his future; his and Molly's.

As they drank and ate he tackled Watson on his future plans.

'You surely can't be meaning to stay in Hampshire now the war is over.'

'No...no. Mary and I have been married for three months now and we have often talked of our future.'

'Well then you must come to London...no, I insist. I have spoken to my acquaintance at Scotland Yard and he is happy to feed me cases here and there and I plan to advertise for private cases. I'll only take the interesting ones though. But see here, I wondered if you didn't fancy joining me from time to time. I know you are thinking of writing up your war experiences and you could do that in the in between times. What do you say? If it's a yes I can have my brother seek out suitable lodgings for you not far from here.'

John tried to look thoughtful but Sherlock could tell he was interested.

'I'll need to discuss it with Mary...'

'Of course, of course but you like the idea?'

'Yes, damn it yes I do. It sounds like tremendous fun. When are you planning to start?'

'A week off for a honeymoon and then to work. We could have lodgings for you ready in the same time. It could be the adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson.' Sherlock clapped his friend on the shoulder as he toasted him.

'Or the tale of Doctor Watson and Sherlock Holmes,' quipped the shorter man. 'I'll talk to Mary today.'

Meanwhile Molly was sat with her new mother in law who seemed polite but very forbidding.

She had spent the last ten minutes quizzing Molly on every aspect of her childhood, her upbringing, her time at Barts and how she had ensnared her son. Molly had made sure to be discreet about just how intimate her relationship with Sherlock had been but she had a feeling that the older woman was understanding far more than was being said.

There was a silence for about a minute which had Molly starting to feel very uncomfortable but then Mrs Holmes senior gave her her first genuine smile and she leant forward to place her hand over Molly's.

'Well my dear, it seems Mycroft is right you have managed the impossible. You have broken through the shell that my youngest son had so painfully wrapped around himself. I worried when I heard if your betrothment. I worried that maybe he had picked a woman just to satisfy his...how can I put it...his masculine needs but now I see that thankfully I was wrong. I see in you an equal to my son. Someone who shares his morbid interests and someone who can and will challenge him. I am happy to call you my daughter.'

Three hours later and they were all gone, helped on their way by an increasingly rude and sullen Sherlock who was making his displeasure at their presence more and more obvious.

Mrs Hudson was the last to leave as she bustled around the flat starting to tidy up, chatting happily to the newlyweds completely oblivious to the fact that neither of them wanted her there. Sherlock finally thanked her as he took her by the shoulders and led her to the door of the flat.

'I'm sure the tidying up can wait or we can manage it ourselves.'

'Oh but, the leftovers need...'

'Thank you Mrs Hudson.'

She turned at the doorway looking concerned. 'But Mr Holmes...the cake...'

'Mrs Hudson, please!'

Molly saw the moment she cottoned on to the situation but far from Mrs Hudson being embarrassed at the situation she smiled. 'Oh aren't I the silly one. You don't need me getting in the way. You two young ones enjoy yourselves.'

P

She patted Sherlock affectionately on his arm and started to walk away. 'Just ring down in the morning when you want your breakfast. I won't disturb you otherwise.'

Sherlock closed the door behind him and leant on it. He looked over at Molly and smiled. 'God I thought they would never leave. Now come here Mrs Holmes and give me a kiss.'

Molly couldn't help the shiver of delight that ran through her as she heard him call her by her new moniker. She could still hardly fathom that they were finally married, finally allowed to indulge in all that that meant.

They met in the middle of the room and Molly had to lean up to reach his mouth even as he bent to kiss her. They had indulged in a lot of kissing over the last three weeks and Molly never grew tired of it. What did feel different however was the fact that she knew they didn't have to hold back or break off or live with the feeling of frustration any longer.

She melted into his embrace as his arms held her and his tongue invaded her mouth until she was moaning with her need for him.

Finally Sherlock released her, breathing heavily as he did. He gave her a knowing smile. 'Perhaps you'd like to change for bed, you can use the bedroom and I can use the bathroom and I'll meet you there shortly.'

Molly blushed but nodded her head barely able to keep the smile from her own face.

She made her way through to their room. She had only seen it briefly when Sherlock had shown her and her mother around the day before. Her trunk had arrived and was waiting for her in the corner of the room. She would need to unpack all her things eventually but there would be time for that the next day. She opened it and let her hands trail over the new items that she had bought, with her mother, for her wedding night; the satin and lace was all crisp and new and unworn.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock gave Molly time to change. It hadn't taken him long to don his nightshirt and dressing gown so in the intervening time he poured himself a whiskey and stood at one of the windows looking down on the still busy street. It was barely eight o clock in the evening but he didn't care that it was so early. They had waited long enough to be joined once more.

He finished the drink and made his way to his bedroom door, tapping lightly before he entered. For a moment he stood in shock taking her in and then he smiled and shook his head. 'Molly Hooper you never fail to amaze me.'

'That's Molly Holmes to you sir. Am I being too forward for you?'

She started to pull the covers up over her naked breasts but he motioned for her to stop.

'No, God no. You are perfect just as you are.'

She waved towards her trunk. 'I did have new night things but then I realised I didn't want anything getting in the way. I...I just want to be with you, with nothing between us.'

As she spoke Sherlock shrugged off his gown throwing it over a nearby chair and in one swift move he pulled his night shirt over his head.

He saw Molly's eyes widen at the sight of him fully naked and a slight blush appeared on her cheeks but he also saw her arousal in the way her pupils dilated and in the noticeable pulse showing on her slim neck.

He knelt on the bed and crawled to meet her knowing that he was already hardening and lengthening in anticipation. He was in no rush though, there were still so many things to teach her and he knew just how he wanted to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we are getting to the good stuff with all the angst well and truly behind us. One more chapter and then we're done.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, unbelievably here we are with the final chapter of my first historic Sherlolly fic. Thank you so much for coming along with me on this journey. I thoroughly enjoyed the challenge of writing it and hope you had as much enjoyment from the reading of it.
> 
> Before I move on I just wanted to thank Lilsherlockian1975 for her support with this fic and for her suggestions in some of the recent chapters. Having her to bounce ideas around with and generally chew the fat with is invaluable and I hope she knows how much I appreciate her.
> 
> Anyway there's only one thing left now...on with the ending.

They kissed once more but this felt so different from previous times. Molly could feel Sherlock's naked body pressed against her own and the feel of his skin on hers just made her shudder in anticipation. She had replayed her first time with him so many times over the last few months but then they had been still half dressed, rushing in their need to be together, but now... Molly felt as if they had all the time in the world.

She let her hands slide down his sides feeling his muscles reacting to her touch. Bravely when she moved her hand to his back she let them glide down to cup his backside pulling him against her until she could feel his hardness against her thigh. She moved to accommodate him, spreading her legs and awaiting the moment when he would press himself inside her but he didn't. Instead he kissed his way down her neck and to her breasts.

She had forgotten just how good it felt to have him kissing and sucking and biting on each of her sensitive nipples in turn. By the time he had finished Molly knew she was close to that strange pleasure that he had called an orgasm and she felt she couldn't wait to experience it again. She found herself pleading with him to help her achieve it but when he lifted his head from her breasts he gave her such a wicked smile that she had to bite her lip and swallow hard, wondering just what he meant to do next. She soon found out as he moved himself lower still. His lips and tongue leaving a trail down her stomach until his head was between her legs. She had never seen a sight so sinfully wicked or erotic.

The moment he kissed her quim though she knew she was lost. She sank her hands into his luscious black curls as his tongue and lips caused the most amazing sensations in her body that she had ever experienced. Within minutes she was incoherently crying out his name as she pressed herself wantonly against his face hearing him groan as his tongue plunged inside her.

As she came back to herself he knelt up smiling as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. He looked so pleased with himself at the reaction he had caused in her that she found herself once again wanting to give him the same pleasure he had just given her.

She sat up, still breathing heavily, and matched his position on the bed so she could kiss him once more. He tasted different and she knew that it must be herself that she could taste on his mouth and tongue. It made her wonder just what he must taste like and it was that wonder which made her kiss down his neck, licking at his throat and enjoying the sounds it brought from him.

She placed her hands on his muscular thighs as she mirrored his movements on her; kissing and biting each of his nipples as he leant back against the footboard of the bed watching her progress through eyes that were merely slits.

As she reached his abdomen his erection was already skimming the skin of her cheek and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, hoping that what she was about to do was something he would enjoy. She had no reference point, no knowledge, she just acted on instinct.

As she took him into her mouth he let out a cry. She almost stopped, worrying that she had made a mistake but his words gave her confidence to continue. 'Oh God, don't stop...yes...that feels amazing.'

She took her time, enjoying the salty tangy taste of him as she slowly got used to taking him deeper and deeper into her mouth. Too soon though he stopped her and pulled her back up.

'Did I do it wrong?' She asked but he shook his head as he kissed her throat.

'God no, but I was too close to my finish and I want to be inside you when I come.'

His words seemed to go straight through her body and set her loins ablaze once more. He lay himself down on the bed and moved Molly so she was sat astride him and she moaned as she felt her quim come into contact with the hardness of his erection. Once again she felt totally out of her depth. There was so much she needed to learn but she was glad she had such a good teacher. She had always imagined that sex would be as they had first had it, with her on her back and him above, but it was quickly becoming apparent to her that that was not the case.

He told her to sit up a little and when she did he positioned himself at her entrance and slowly but surely she slid down onto him, gasping as he stretched and filled her. Memories of their previous coupling and how it had felt came rushing back to her but her memories had not done it justice. The reality was so much better than the remembrance of it.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock was pleasantly surprised by how enthusiastic Molly was about trying out new sexual experiences. He had suspected from the start that she would be an eager learner and she was not disappointing him...she would never disappoint him...but she was so much more than even he had realised. When she had taken him in her sweet mouth it had taken everything he had ever known not to come. He promised himself that should she be willing next time he wouldn't hold back but he knew that he needed to not overwhelm her with too much too soon.

The sight of her above him, her eyes closed and her mouth open, taking in the feeling of being filled by him was breathtaking and he wished he could immortalise the image in more than just his mind palace. He wanted to remember this moment for ever.

Tentatively she bounced up and down on his cock and he struggled to mask his smile at her inexperience. It wouldn't do for her to think he were laughing at her, he needed to nurture her and give her confidence.

'Lean forward, my love, come...kiss me,' he covered her breast with his hand as he brought the other to her hip guiding her movements as they kissed. She was a quick study though and soon she was riding him, moaning and crying out as she used his body to give herself the pleasure she wanted. He loved watching her, feeling her getting closer and knowing he wouldn't have to hold back for much longer. His own pleasure would soon be past the point of no return but he needed her to climax again.

He caught at her breast as she rocked above him and gently bit down on her nipple until he heard her let out a loud groan. He repeated the move once...then twice and he felt the moment that she started to come, felt her muscles tighten around him pulling his own orgasm from him.

He thrust up into her almost lifting her off the bed as the two of them came, neither caring about how much noise they were making; they were both just lost in the moment.

As they came back down from their mutual high Sherlock rolled them so he could lie above her and kiss her deeply, feeling his cock starting to slip from her. He determined there and then that they would have sex again that night. It might take him a short while to recover but he could imagine nothing better than spending the whole night showing her just how much he loved and wanted her.

He could still hardly believe the significant change that this small woman had wrought in him. He had gone to that hospital in agony, expecting and fearing to lose his leg and be crippled for life and he had left with more than he had ever deserved.

He pushed the sweat soaked hair from off her face as he smiled down at her bending his head to kiss her once more. This time the kiss was slow...languid, it seemed to last for ever but still ended too soon. As he caught his breath he moved over her a little more and kissed her again. This time there was more fire to it, more passion as he let his tongue explore her mouth.

He was amazed to feel himself physically responding to her once more but he could feel blood pulsing into his cock making it lengthen and harden as though he hadn't just been sated.

By now he was fully lying on top of her and she opened her legs to him and bit by bit as he moved his hips against her he started to enter her. It felt as though he were in another world, one in which only the two of them existed, one where time ceased to matter. They had been kissing and touching for so long that he had no idea how much time had passed, all that mattered was her and how she made him feel and he felt good.

She let her hands trail down his back, scraping at his skin with her nails and it seemed to send pulses of pain and pleasure straight to his cock and he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything before. He wanted to fuck her and make love to her all at the same time and hear her calling his name as she came, knowing that she was his.

He felt her pulling him into her encouraging him to go faster and deeper and he responded. He lifted himself off her slightly and thrust into her watching her expressions in the fast darkening room. He could hear her cries of pleasure and her starting to beg him for more and he wanted to give it to her, he wanted to give her everything he had.

He used his arm on one side to lift her leg higher so he could go deeper knowing he would be able to hit that spot inside her that would bring on her orgasm knowing his own would follow soon after. The contrasting feeling of the cool air of the bedroom and the delicious warmth of her tight, slick cunt was making him lose all sense of himself.

His muscles were straining and he knew that he was sweating with the exertion but it didn't matter all that mattered was reaching his climax and it was so close. Then all of a sudden her nails bit into the skin of his backside and she cried out his name. As she came she bit and sucked at the skin at the base of his throat and he never wanted to stop fucking her but it was too late and his come streamed from him pulsing into her as he slammed himself as deep inside her as he could physically manage.

By the time he had finished he felt as though he had run a marathon and he fell onto her knowing that she could take his weight, at least for a moment or two.

This time when they broke apart he lay on his back with Molly hugged up to his side and he could feel sleep pulling at him tempting him. Molly was kissing his chest as her hand moved across his stomach.

'Molly Holmes you will be the death of me. I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you.'

She leant up on her elbow and smiled down at him. 'Good, because I'm not going anywhere, losing me is one battle you'll never have to fight...plus I have an inkling that you still have more to teach me. Am I right?'

'Yes, yes you are and I can't wait.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's where we'll leave them, enjoying being together. If any of you were wondering Molly started her new job at Barts and thoroughly enjoyed it, because of that they put off having a family for a while but Molly was pregnant by their second wedding anniversary.
> 
> Let me know if you liked the ending...or even if you didn't and I'll be back soon with another fic, though the next ones quite a bit shorter. that is...if you want a new fic...let me know.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to point out that according to ACD in The Study in Scarlet Watson really did train at the Royal Victoria Hospital in Netley. It was a real hospital; most of which was demolished in the 1960's and the site is now a country park not far from where I live so I'd always wanted to include it in one of my fics.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like the start....do let me know xx


End file.
